Summer Rain
by Ninkita
Summary: She walked in, with her attitude and a polka dot umbrella. Whatever else I expected this miserable, rainy night, it definitely wasn't this.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N:** An old Hindi movie song and the desperate need to write... that's where this little story came from. It's a drabble, so expect short chapters, posting alternate days.

Disclaimer: I don't own Twilight, or any old Hindi songs. They're both a ton of fun, though.

...-...

1.

It's raining again. It's always raining.

When I was a kid, I remember my mom reading to me. She loved books. Those books always painted an appealing picture of the rain. It was all about staying indoors, watching drops chase each other down windowpanes, with a background score of the soothing percussion of rain on a tin roof. In my imagination, rain came to be associated with vague impressions of warmth, shiny, silvery, sparkling splashes, a feeling of safety, contentment and hope.

It took me a while to realize that reality—my actual experience of rain—was pretty far from the ideal I had come to expect from her stories. Maybe I was just a dumb kid, but I still remember how cheated I had felt the first time it hit home that rain was wet, cold, and miserable.

I remember standing out there on the driveway outside our house, watching my illusions being washed away, one 'tremulous prism' at a time.

It was raining, it was wet, and her car skidded on those deceptively lovely raindrops, straight into the tree, right down the lane. I heard the crunch of metal, and then a stillness broken only by the patter of rain on tin—a sound that she loved so much.

No, that one incident does not continue to direct my life today, fifteen years after the fact. I'm not hung up on it, I don't hate the rain, and I don't even have an overly cynical attitude about everything and everyone. If anything, I'm as depressingly normal as the next person.

It's still raining.

Unlike the description of the melody of falling raindrops from her stories, what I hear is a multi-layered orchestra. There's the annoyingly repetitive 'plink-plunk' of the leak in the far corner that tells me Seth didn't fix the roof as he promised me he would. There's a fast, staccato beat against the roof and walls, nothing like the dreamy rhythm mom promised. It's punctuated by the howling wind, a wailing, whooshing entity that seems to threaten to blow my little shack down with each shuddering rattle of my shutters. Throughout, there's a sloshing, splashing, swirling sound of water, gurgling through the gutters and down the pipes, adding to the stream, a steady sheet that probably covers the street already.

It's so loud that I nearly miss the added splashing of feet wading through rushing water and the loud clatter of hard rain on plastic—a rather pretty purple umbrella, edged with polka dots, of all things.

I blink and set down the wrench I had been using to fix old Doc Banner's car. Whatever else I expected this miserable, rainy night, it definitely wasn't this.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N:** We can do daily updates on weekends and alternate on weekdays, yeah? Chrissie (purpleC305) tried to inspire me to stay strong and wait a day, but I can't!

2.

"Can you fix my car?"

I look her up and down with a raised eyebrow, but truth is, I can't really see much. She's still got that ridiculous umbrella up, much good it's doing her inside my shed. It's creating a puddle on my floor, around her feet, is all. She's wearing boots, and it affords me a strange sense of satisfaction that she is at least dressed for the weather.

Her body is covered by some kind of an overcoat, and I can't really make out her features in the shadow cast by her freaking parasol.

Yes. My mother read out books to me that involved parasols. I might have also read a book or two over the years that involved parasols. Reading is a good habit, and stereotyping is a terrible one.

I sigh, and step closer to the figure still dithering near my open door. I want to roll my eyes when she cowers as I reach past to slam the door shut.

"I'd rather keep the rain out, if you don't mind," I state blandly, stepping back. "And I'd need to see your car to fix it."

She huffs, and starts to speak. She speaks with her hands, I notice, and that means the umbrella she's been clutching so tight with both hands gets in her way pretty spectacularly. They wrestle for a few fraught moments, before I step forward again and gently pull it away, standing it in a corner to dry off.

"Oh, thanks." She sounds a little put out that I ended her bout so soon.

She looks up and I feel like I've been pole-axed.

Her glance is a maiden's favor to the victorious knight. I rescued her from the dragon umbrella. Call me Sir Edward, Parasol-slayer.


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: The best part of the day was when NewTwilightFan updated 'On The Line', _and_ posted her delightful one-shot, 'Puppy Love'. If you haven't, you absolutely must read her stories. (I love you, Maggie!)

3.

She shivers, and I blink. Her tremor runs through me, and that's how I know I'm getting caught up in rain voodoo.

"Your car, you said?"

She nods, grimacing and peering outside through the large picture window next to the door. Not that she can see much, what with half the glass obscured by painted lettering declaring this to be 'Masen's Garage', and the rain blurring the outside world besides.

"It's out there," she says, trying to see beyond the wavering curtain of water. She blinks and squints, and I don't even try to tell her to save the effort. She's bent and twisted at the waist, just a bit, still looking out. It makes me tilt my head, because how is that comfortable? She does have a trim waist.

I leave her to her abstraction and pick up my tools again. Truth be told, my attention has wandered to various interesting parts of her body, and I need to rein it in. I have three cars and a bike to fix, and no hope of the other mechanics making it through tomorrow either, if the rain continues the way it has for most of today.

"Well, can you do it?" she demands suddenly.

The squelchy tapping of her wet boots has now joined the myriad howls and drips and associated rainy sounds. My sigh is practically inaudible, but the wrench is loud enough for the both of us. Its sharp clang seems to make a point for me.

"I'd have to check it out to see what was wrong. For that, I'd have to get the car in here," I wave my arm in the general direction of the other cars in the shed. "But that will have to wait till the rain lets up a bit."

Her chin sort of bunches up in annoyance. Somehow, she makes sure her sigh of aggravation is audible despite the atmospherics. I find her scrunched up, disgruntled face more appealing than I should, especially when she glares at me.

I don't know why, but she reminds me of an apple. A juicy, rounded little apple that I can't wait to hold in my hands as I bite into the delicious skin… Damp from the rain, her scent is sweet and potent as it wafts by, making my mouth water.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N:** We had a bit of a scare and had to rush dad to the hospital this morning, but it's all good now. So, to celebrate and share my relief, here's another chapter!

4.

She's glaring at me. I wonder if I'm coming down with something, because it's turning me on.

I return to the car I was working on, with an offhand, "Why don't you sit down till the rain lets up?" tossed over my shoulder.

It takes me a minute to focus on what I'm supposed to be doing; instead, I'm concentrating on tracking her movements by sound. A hesitant, squelchy footstep, the rustle of her coat; she takes a deep breath and lets it out with a whoosh.

I'm curious about her. What is she doing here? Where was she going, and how far did she have to walk when her car broke down? What kind of car does she drive? Why was she travelling alone in this storm? The weather has been this way all day. Why'd she risk going out? Why not stay home, safe, like the rest of the sane people in town?

Is she from out of town?

Will she stay?

I clean out the carburetor of Banner's car. She's still standing, looking out of the window, her arms wrapped around her slender body.

The fan belt needs to be replaced. She's moved to sit—not on the couch at the 'customer' end of the shed, but on one of the mismatched chairs situated right in the middle of the work area. She's one car away, but I know she's watching me.

I raise a shoulder, turning slightly to wipe my forehead on my sleeve, and there—caught you!

She averts her eyes, and I watch her for a moment, framed so beautifully by the window of the Newtons' Ford.

The fluorescent light overhead swings slightly as the roof trembles with the continued onslaught of precipitation. It casts wavering shadows across her slightly flushed countenance. I blink, and suddenly the roar of the storm comes back to wash over me in all its deafening glory.

My heartbeat is louder than the storm.


	5. Chapter 5

A/N: Thank you all for reading and reviewing. You guys brighten up my day.

5.

She shivers, and of course I notice.

Her coat is damp. Despite the umbrella, her long hair is wet. She's wearing decent boots, but I'm willing to bet her socks are damp as well. The rain outside is ferocious, whipping this way and that, defeating rain gear like a pro.

The shed is reasonably warm and dry. Well, except for the odd drip and that damn cold wisp of air that whips through the shed every now and then. I can't seem to plug it, no matter what I do.

Nah, she'll be ok.

She shivers again, pushing away a wet strand of hair away from her face. I think I detect a sniffle, but I can't be sure.

"You'd feel better if you took off the coat, you know?" I comment, cool and offhand. "Hang it up to dry. I can get you a blanket, or something."

Her fingers twitch at the belt, and she lets out a frustrated huff. I suppose that's a no. I turn away. Oh well, I tried…

"Sure, that'd be great." I can just see her wary eyes over the top of the Ford. I walk over to the office at the back of the shed, grabbing a couple of warm blankets and a towel. With every step I take, she moves as well; there's a car between us at all times.

She's tantalizing me with these partial glimpses—now I see her eyes, now the curve of her waist, now a flash of her dark hair as she ducks again. Is anyone really that shy and skittish anymore?

Lightning flashes outside the window, followed by the loud crash of thunder. She's distracted, and when she turns back, I'm standing in front of her.

Her huge brown eyes could suck me in and turn my head if I let them. I drop the blankets on one of the chairs and walk back to the car I'm pretending to fix.

I have at least another day of loneliness to look forward to, thanks to this storm. I figure I can do some actual work then.

For now, I'll just focus on not turning around to watch as her coat rustles to the ground. My eyes flicker unbidden to the side mirror on the next car, and I grip my wrench tighter.

Her coat's off, but where are her clothes?


	6. Chapter 6

A/N: No answers just yet...

6.

I look away. I didn't really see much. A bare shoulder, a flash of leg.

I focus on the irritating drip of the leaky roof. The wind doesn't seem to be letting up. If the storm doesn't die down a bit, I won't be able to go out to her car. I know I heard the ominous crash and crunch of a falling tree a while ago. Not ideal conditions to rescue her ride. This knight won't tilt at windmills. I'm not that foolhardy.

My eyes stray back to the small mirror that has been my unwitting partner in crime so far. I'm not all that honorable either.

She's twisted and draped one blanket around her body like a toga of some sort, and wrapped the other around her shoulders. The coarse red makes her pale skin glow. At least there isn't much by way of bare skin to look at any longer. I breathe a little easier.

She steps away from her corner, where I'm sure she thought I couldn't see her.

"Would you like something warm to drink?" I don't know where the words come from. I thought I was trying to ignore her damn distracting presence.

She raises that pert little nose of hers and narrows her eyes at me. Is she trying to look intimidating? Girl needs more practice.

"What drink? I mean, I can make something for myself if you show me where to go." There's a flash of something more than suspicion in her eyes.

"I'm making myself some hot chocolate. I'm not going to drug you if that's what you're worried about." I'm being flippant, but her gasp is telling. "You can come watch me."

It's odd having someone following my every move as I heat the pan of milk, dig out the tin of chocolate, find a spoon, try not to stare back at her…

I give her my favorite mug and take one of the chipped ones Seth seems to love collecting from garage sales. It's his thing. Some people play sports, Seth goes bargain hunting.

I don't know what my 'thing' is.

"Mmmm," she hums in appreciation. "This is really good. Thanks. I … I'm sorry about before, but…"

I wave off the rest of her apology. She's not really sorry, and neither am I. It's good to know she isn't going around trusting people blindly. Especially seeing as she's been going around with nothing under her coat.

Nothing under the blanket.

I scald my tongue, drinking too fast. It sucks, but at least I don't try to jump her.


	7. Chapter 7

A/N: Short one, but there will be another a little later, to make up for it.

7.

Her toes are taunting me.

She refused to rest on the couch because she said it was too near the front window. Something about how being able to see the rain made her feel cold.

I didn't tell her that hearing the rain had the same effect on me. I don't think she's up for that kind of emotional bonding.

Instead, I dragged the couch over to the back of the shed, made space near the chairs she'd claimed earlier. She's clearly happy to relax bang in the middle of a motor workshop. I'm just happy she's in a place I can keep an eye on her without being too obvious.

Which brings me to her toes.

They are cute pink toes with trimmed nails, bare of polish, looking out demurely from the blanket she has draped over herself. To be honest, they are the only parts of her that seem even remotely friendly at the moment. The girl changes moods every minute.

Hot chocolate didn't get me very far. I still know nothing about her, and she's still got her defenses up sky high. Maybe I should have offered marshmallows.

I hate this unsettled feeling. Not knowing, not being in control of things, this damned storm… my equilibrium is shakier than a leaf in the wind.

A part of me wants to step out into the sheeting rain, feel the icy droplets hit my body till I'm numb.

I don't want to acknowledge the impulse, because then I'd have to recognize the other part of me that wants to kiss this girl, or better yet, the part that wants to shut out the world and hide in a corner. It doesn't happen often, but rainy days like this…

I bite down a sigh, pick up my tools, and get back to work.


	8. Chapter 8

A/N: ForeverRobsessed made sure I posted this. Are you reading her WIP _Going In Blind_? It's so good! And I see that NewTwilightFan just updated _On The Line_ as well. What a good day this is turning out to be :)

8.

It's been about ten minutes.

"Why're you working here all alone in this storm?" she asks.

She broke the silence, she caved, so in the twisted game of 'blink' we were playing in my head, I just won.

I dip my head further over the engine of the car to hide my smirk.

"No one else could get in."

"And you could? You must really love your job."

"I live here."

She makes an exaggerated show of looking around from her perch on the couch.

"Oh, I'm sorry, I mistook the place for a garage. Must be all the cars. Nice décor. Very… eclectic."

If she's trying to needle me, she's going to be sorely disappointed. All it does is make me want to laugh. Bundled up in the fuzzy blankets, curled up on the couch with her hair still damp, and that pout, she looks like one of those cute kittens that think they are huge, scary lions.

I wonder how angry she'd get if I asked her to roar for me. I curb the impulse, and smile blandly.

"Thanks, I thought it'd be a great conversation starter."

I know I've got her pegged when she huffs and looks away. I lose the next couple of minutes contemplating how strange it is to instinctively know so much about her, without knowing the first thing about her. And I really want to know _everything_ about her.

I finish up with Banner's car and wipe my hands on a rag. Lightning illuminates the deserted yard in a brief flash of light. I squint through the nearest window, trying to look past the streaming water, past the chill that creeps up my spine. This rain… this damned storm.

A rustling from her couch snaps me out of my abstraction, and suddenly, I'm not cold any more.

Our eyes meet, and I'm sure she can see that I'm lost, just as surely as I can see she's scared. I wish I knew what has her so spooked.


	9. Chapter 9

A/N: Almost the weekend...

9.

"You sleep on this couch?" she asks, and I'm so startled that I blink. Damn, I think that means I lost, even though she's the one who spoke first.

Her eyes narrow when I don't answer right away. If it wasn't for her barely concealed vulnerability, a man might think she's an entitled, spoilt, disagreeable brat.

But somehow, every word she tries to cut at me with ends up wiping away a portion of the smokescreen she's trying to hide behind.

"Do the girls actually go for this… this…" She's at a loss, waving her arms about the shed. I'm transfixed, staring a little south of her chin, wondering if her flailing will shift the blanket just a bit, just a little bit more... and we have cleavage!

It's a particularly good angle from where I'm standing. Her enticing curves are jiggling slightly with every agitated movement she makes, and I don't think she has a clue what it's doing to me. Right now, a bolt of lightning could incinerate the whole damn building and I wouldn't notice.

I nearly grumble aloud when my sight is obscured by her crossed arms.

"What girls? What're you talking about?" Seriously, what did I miss while I was ogling certain parts of her anatomy?

She scoffs.

"You know… girls. Women. Dates? One-night stands?"

I blanch, because how did she even reach there? "No, what? No women, what are you even… why?" I sputter, but coherence is beyond me when she's asking me about my sex life, and here I was, fantasizing…

"Oh my God, you do, don't you? This is where you bring them! Those floozies probably get a kick out of the place… it's their blue-collar fantasy, isn't it? And this… this couch," she leaps up as though electrocuted, arms akimbo, glaring at the couch as if it bit her in the butt. "Ugh, I can't even imagine the depraved things you've probably done on it! I can't believe you let me sit in that thing. I need sanitizer."

She's shuddering in horror at her ridiculous thoughts, and I want to lick the goosebumps I can see have risen along her collarbone.

I step closer because I can't stay away.

"Stop being crazy for a minute." I lay a single finger on her lips to silence her. I think we both stop breathing for a moment.


	10. Chapter 10

A/N: Thanks for all the lovely reviews. I'd respond, but I know you all understand why I can't.

10.

She steps back and wraps the other blanket around her shoulders.

Damn, there goes the view.

"I'm not crazy." Her voice is strangely subdued for someone who was so vocal about my supposed sex life a moment ago.

"Alright, but the stuff you were saying was. Nuts. Absolutely demented."

"I get the picture," she snaps.

"I have a place out back," I explain, waving towards the back of the shed. "You can't see it from the front at all, 'cause the shed pretty much hides it. But I have my own place back there."

She's quiet a beat, before firing back, "Well, good for you. I don't need to know about it." Then she's back on the couch, curled up like a fluffy little ball, with her back to me, as much as she can manage.

I'm baffled by this girl, and damn if it doesn't turn me on. I'll need to go work on brake pads or something to settle down.

The Newtons' Ford is in pretty bad shape. Their son is incapable of basic maintenance, but he is good at adding to the dings and dents on its battered body. I must've seen this car in here at least five times in the last six months. It'll do.

I'm not sure how much time passes—fifteen minutes? Half an hour? It's hard to tell when I'm trying so hard to ignore the girl on my couch, who's trying so hard to ignore me.

This night is loud enough, what with the rain beating down on the roof, and the thunder growling so loud, and the wind screeching like something from a bad horror movie. Else I would have hammered out some of the dents on this car's body.

That would have made it pretty hard to ignore me, I'll bet.

Speaking of loud, it might be my imagination, but the rain seems to have let up marginally. I stride over to the window, but it's starting to fog up a bit. With a sigh, I pull open the door and take stock of the world outside.

The fresh, clean, wet scent is almost overpowering. I never realize how attached I am to the scent of grease and dust and my own damn sweat until it rains like this.

Damn wet air is going to make me sneeze.


	11. Chapter 11

A/N: How's Sunday treating you?

11.

Standing there, rubbing at my nose and thinking that I may as well get the girl's car in while I can, I'm blinded by a flash of lightning that forks its way down from the skies right to my feet, so it seems.

I jump back instinctively, just as my eardrums are assaulted by a godawful smash and rumble and clap and crunch. I blink, and the huge oak in my yard sizzles where the lightning tore through it, straight down its strong, thick trunk.

I haven't even begun to process the smell of burnt wood, the zing of the ionized air, when with a sudden, sharp crack, half the tree splits away sideways, landing with a loud thump and smoosh, right across my driveway.

I swear the shed vibrates for a whole minute afterwards.

Her eyes are wide, fearful, as they peer at me over the back of the couch. With a sigh, I shut the door and walk over, my hands deep in my pockets where she can't see my fists.

"You heard?" Maybe that's a stupid question, but I'm still shaken.

She nods, all eyes.

"I can't get your car in now. You want to try and call a cab? The storm is winding down a bit, looks like. I mean, I still don't think it's the safest idea to be out in these conditions tonight, but you probably have someplace to be."

I don't think I can look at her right now. I don't know why I want this annoying girl around at all. Maybe it's just that she distracts me from the rain.

She bites her lip and seems to debate her options. Then, squaring her shoulders, she nods decisively.

"I think it's sensible to just stay put. I mean, who knows what state the roads are in."

I nod as well. We probably look like a pair of ridiculous bobble-head dolls. Seth collects those as well.

"Yeah, alright. But umm… you want to call someone and let them know, or whatever? I'll be there," I point to the farthest part of the shed, thinking she'd prefer some privacy. There's no way a girl like her doesn't have people around who want to make sure she's alright.

I root around in the tools and assorted machine parts stacked up in the wall-high shelves, mentally making a note to get that slacker Embry to clean this area up sometime this month.

My eyes stray back for another surreptitious glance. She hasn't moved. She hasn't so much as twitched a finger towards the small sling bag she had tossed onto a chair near her trench coat.

She looks up and our gazes catch.

She isn't crying. It's just the rain has caught up with her. That's all.


	12. Chapter 12

A/N: Have you voted for the Mobward Contest? Have you considered writing for the Carlisle Uncovered contest? What about the BDE? That's a whole lot of fun reading to look forward to!

12.

I should keep this girl around.

Since she walked into my garage a few hours ago, I've already finished work on two cars. All alone, I'd have found plenty of ways to waste my time. Not that I'm trying to impress her, flexing my muscles or anything. Alright, I'm not flexing my muscles _much_. She's been dozing for most of the last hour anyhow.

Speaking of time, it's getting late. The storm hasn't let up any after all, and it's not like either of us can leave, what with that huge split oak lying across my front yard.

"Hey," I whisper, poking at her shoulder gingerly. "Hey miss, wake up."

Damn, I don't even know her name. Why haven't I asked for her name?

Her lashes are ridiculously long. They cast shadows on the tops of her cheeks, darkening the soft pink to a more dusky hue. She looks like one of those pretty little china dolls that Seth collects.

For the record, the only reason I know about all his little collections is because he insists on showing us his haul after every successful yard sale he hits up. That's all.

She sighs out a breath and blinks awake, letting out a startled little scream as she sits up and scrambles away from where I'm still hovering.

"Damn, miss… I didn't mean to scare you!" I'm flapping like an idiot. "Relax, relax, ok? I was trying to wake you up, that's all. That's all, ok? You alright?"

Her eyes are still wide and apprehensive, but she seems calmer.

"Right, look, the storm hasn't let up, it's getting late, and well, I don't know about you, but I'm getting hungry. If it's alright with you, we can shut the garage down and head to my place for the night."

"Your place?" she asks skeptically. "How about you go and I'll just stay here."

"There isn't any substantial food in the garage pantry," I point out. "And this place is leaky and draughty, and I can't afford to have you sue me if you fall sick. I'm not taking that risk."

She's wavering, but not sold yet. I'm hungry, tired, and losing patience fast.

"Alright, how about this… just come along, take a look and decide for yourself if my place is safe or whatever. At least I can lend you some clothes, a hairdryer, that kind of thing." I wave my hands vaguely around, before running them through my hair. Her stuck-up princess routine is getting on my nerves.

"Ok," she says, standing and grabbing her coat and bag. "Lead the way."

I nod, first securing the door, shutting off lights and checking switches, before I lead her to an inconspicuous door at the back of the shed.

"Through here, miss," I gesture, opening the door.

She pauses at the threshold, turns slightly and looks up at me through those long eyelashes.

"Bella. Please call me Bella."

By the time I figure which way is up, she's halfway down the passageway.


	13. Chapter 13

A/N: What!? This got rec'd at the Lemonade Stand? Yay, coolness :)

13.

The din of the rain is muted here, though we are practically outdoors right now, in between shelters. The air is suffused with the heavy, sweet aroma of wild roses. The lack of electric lighting somehow heightens the beauty of the storm, of the night, of this strange encounter with this strange girl.

She's standing in the middle of the breezeway. The pale, intermittent flashes of lightning illuminate the look of wonder on her face.

I watch as she looks up in awe, tracing the path of the rose bushes that crawl all over the sides and roof of the path. You can't really tell in this uncertain light, but they bloom in all colors, palest cream to deepest red. I'm not sure I have one that can match the tint of her cheeks, though.

"Wow," she whispers softly, but I hear her clear as a bell. "Who could have imagined this place?"

I don't answer, but I can't hold back my smile either. This passage is something I'm particularly proud of. I thought it up, designed it, and built it all by myself.

I modeled it after Roman aqueducts, so it's got a frame of arched, pillared red brick. In between the pillars, a series of safety-glass reinforced French windows open out into the garden. It isn't much to look at right now, but any other day, it's an oasis.

The guys are over every day at the shed, but only Seth and Emmett even know the garden exists. They assume it was that way when I bought the house, and I just kept it up. I never bothered to correct them.

I guess they can't figure how a greasy mechanic would have the vision for a whimsical garden like mine. They see the man they want to see, the person they are comfortable being around. That's alright, 'cause I am that man too… I am coarse and short tempered, sweat and grease, rips and stains. I'm unrefined, unfiltered, uncouth. But so are they.

They wouldn't know what to do with this part of me, and I wouldn't know who to be if they realized.

But this girl, she's looking at me like she knows.

I walk towards her, intent on guiding her to the house, but she doesn't move, and suddenly, it's like my dreams crystallized into reality.

The rain, the roses, the romance of having this unattainable, mysterious girl so close… My hands are shaking.


	14. Chapter 14

A/N: You wouldn't believe the day I've had. Oh well, inching closer to the weekend...

14.

It's awkward, standing so close, neither of us moving one way or the other, until she suddenly scrunches up her face and sneezes.

I jump back the same time she does, and then I scramble past, trying to get the door to my house open.

"Come on, you need to get inside." I'm stating the obvious, of course. The girl's been sitting in the shed for at least a couple of hours with her hair still damp, no clothes, no socks… she strikes me as the type whose feet are perpetually cold.

She looks upset, but I don't have time to figure out why. I hustle her past the kitchen, past the living room, straight into the spare bedroom.

"I think there should be something here," I mutter, poking around in the closet. I find an old t-shirt and a pair of warm flannel pajamas that are much too small for me now. They should do nicely for her.

She's standing near the door, arms crossed, foot tapping on the floor, an eyebrow raised imperiously. Here I am, going out of my mind trying to take care of her, trying to prevent her from falling ill, and she stands there with this snooty look on her face. Suddenly, I'm annoyed with her attitude.

"Here," I toss the clothes at her, feeling a perverse satisfaction when they hit her square on the face. "The bathroom's through there. You should take a shower, warm up. I'll be in the kitchen."

The door bangs shut behind me, and I let out a sigh of relief. The more time I spend around her, the more I think I'm losing my mind.

I grab the thickest, warmest pair of socks I can find in my dresser, hanging them carefully over her doorknob before making my way to the kitchen.

I'm starving, and normally I would've just grabbed something easy to eat. A frozen pizza, maybe made myself a sandwich. Today, I'm standing in front of the open fridge wondering what she might like.

With a disgruntled 'humph' I turn away. Right, Mac n' cheese it is… I need comfort food, and if she doesn't think that's good enough, well, too bad. I grab everything I need to make it from scratch, and then on a whim, I pull out a couple of chicken breasts from the freezer. It would be nice to have a bit of grilled chicken, that's all. I'm not trying to impress her or anything.

I like cooking. My mom and I used to spend weekends going over old cookbooks, watching cookery shows, and experimenting with the meager ingredients we could afford. It was always fun, and over the years, I've found that it relaxes me.

I work quickly and systematically, pouring, boiling, stirring, seasoning, grating. The delicious aromas wafting around the kitchen practically have me in a zen-like state when I hear a soft shuffling behind me.

"What're you doing?"

Her voice sounds incredulous, and when I turn around, her expression matches. But I can't really focus on that when she looks so… cute.


	15. Chapter 15

A/N: One of these days, I'm going to buy an island and build a beach house on it. Just putting that thought out to the universe...

15.

She offers to plate the food, and I don't argue. I sit at the table and wait patiently as she dishes up two platters and carries them over. Then she waits till I've had a bite, before finally picking up her fork.

I can guess why she's doing this, and it unsettles me. She isn't subservient by any stretch of the imagination, so the idea of the things that could have forced her to become this cautious… well, it makes my blood boil.

I slowly unclench my hand under the table where she can't see, and take a drink of water.

She's already halfway through her plate, her cheeks stuffed like a chipmunk, and a string of melted cheese escaping the side of her mouth. Her armor seems to have been set aside for the time being, and I'm mesmerized. The unguarded pleasure she's taking in the food makes her even more appealing to me.

She looks up and my cheeks heat when I realize she caught me gaping at her like a fool. I stuff my mouth before I can blurt out something stupid.

"So, listen, thanks," she says.

I choke on my food.

On the bright side, she rushes around to try to save my life. All praise the Heimlich maneuver, and her arms around my chest. Her fresh-washed, clean scent surrounds me, so it's kind of a pity I'm gasping for breath here. Such a wasted opportunity.

With a completely mortifying gurgle and some ugly hacking, a gooey bit of macaroni shoots out of my windpipe and straight onto the middle of the table. I close my eyes so I can no longer see that symbol of my utter ineptitude at seduction.

Not that I was trying to seduce her, but I now have no chance. None. She's probably so put off by that whole performance…

She hasn't removed her arms from around me, though. Her hands are stroking my chest and arms, soothing me. She even runs her fingers through my hair, pushing it off my forehead, and it feels so good, I could stay like this forever.

"Are you feeling me up?" I cringe at my stupid, unfiltered words, wishing I could have choked for a moment longer.

She doesn't speak, doesn't move. Any minute now, she'll shove me away, or withdraw into her icy shell, or something.

"Maybe." I can feel the heat of her cheek radiating onto my neck, where she seems to be trying to hide.

I can breathe again.


	16. Chapter 16

A/N: There's a lot I'm grateful for today, including all your lovely reviews, and the fact that it's the weekend at last. So there will be another update in a few hours.

16.

She straightens up and pulls away from me. I watch her pretty pink fingertips disappear over my arms, over my shoulders. It feels as though she's taken away part of me.

She walks back around to her chair and picks up her fork like we didn't just have a moment back there. It can't have all been in my head. My fantasies would have had us naked amongst the debris of our dinner by now.

We're back on opposite sides of my little table, but I can feel the phantom pressure of her body wrapped around mine. I shiver involuntarily. She's stealing glances, and I'm pretending I don't notice. It's making me antsy, though.

"You from around here?" I figure it's a safe question.

She begins to shake her head, then slowly nods, once. I wait patiently, expectantly, and am rewarded by her soft voice.

"I was born here, but I moved away with my mom as a kid. I would visit my dad every year, so I'm not exactly unfamiliar with the place, but I can't really say I'm from here, you know?"

Well that makes things about as clear as mud.

"So how come you were out in this storm? None of the locals would be out tonight; that's why I figured you might be an out-of-towner driving through."

"Yeah, um, kind of. I wasn't… that is to say, I'm not staying _in_ Forks. Or at least, well, I was hoping to make it to my dad's place here. It's been lying shut since he passed last year, but I figured…"

I nod in understanding.

"You'd better hope his house was in good repair," I comment, licking my fork. "Storms like this tend to leave behind quite a mess."

She sits back with a sigh, her eyes fixed on my… fork?

"Can't be a bigger mess than me," she mutters.


	17. Chapter 17

17.

I overrule her repeated offers to do the dishes. Instead, I've got her settled on the couch, so that I have a clear view of her from the kitchen.

She looks so tired. I'm not surprised when her face contorts suddenly into a mighty yawn. It's one of those highly contagious things—before I know it, I'm yawning as well.

"Careful, your teeth might fall out," she jibes.

I can't stop my smile. Knowing that she's been watching me is a massive ego boost.

"What if I told you they were all fake anyway? I gotta take out the dentures every night, you know."

"That explains it."

"What?"

"How your teeth are so bright and shiny. Must be easier flossing when you can just take 'em out, huh?"

I'm torn between cringing and laughing. In the end I just give her a look, though I'm sure the effect is ruined by the smile I can't entirely hide.

She giggles, and there's this rush of feeling bubbling inside my chest that is entirely new and unfamiliar. I turn away to try and calm down, but not even the relentless roar of the storm and the constant, annoying rush of rainwater over my tiled roof can distract me completely from this strange yearning.

I'm tired of staying away.

It's a startling epiphany, not least because I just met the girl. Eyes wide, heart pounding, I turn back to her.

It all happens so fast that I'm not even sure how I do it, but I manage to slip, grab the edge of the counter to prevent a fall, and somehow end up splashing myself with dirty dishwater.

There's a moment of silence, and then she's laughing again. Of course. I've just given her dinner and a show… a slapstick comedy, what with my flailing and splashing. All I need right now is pie on my face.

I grimace at the way my t-shirt is clinging to me. It's frankly disgusting, with grease and dirt from the garage, and now the dirty, sudsy water.

I pull it off, using a dry portion to wipe at my torso.

It strikes me that she's suddenly gone quiet.


	18. Chapter 18

A/N:Shirtless Edward would like to thank everyone for all the love.

18.

She's eyeing my body, and I smirk when her eyes meander up, over my abs, my chest, my shoulders, my lips. Her brown eyes widen when they meet my green ones. My chest swells, because hell yeah, she was checking me out, and she liked what she saw.

I had been cursing myself for not showering and changing before dinner, thinking it might have been the sweat and grease that drove her back to her chair earlier, after she saved my life.

Now I'm thinking maybe it's a good thing I didn't wash away my day just yet. All those strange questions she asked me back at the shed… about the girls, about blue-collar fantasies… it's all making a lot more sense now. It's _her_ fantasy.

Dare I say it, _I'm_ her fantasy.

I step closer, flexing my biceps casually to distract her when she looks like she's ready to bolt. Our eyes meet again, and she's looking a little dazed. Her lips part, her tongue licks along the rim, and I swear the room heats up.

How did we get this close?

She's leaning towards me, her delicate nose skimming along the side of my neck. I can't hear the thunder or rain or wind, or anything above the frantic pounding of my own heart.

I can count her eyelashes, I'm so close.

Her hand trembles when she raises it to touch my cheek, to stroke my stubbly jaw. Her eyes are dark and lustful, but I don't miss the flashes of fear, maybe confusion, in their depths.

Much as I want to take the sweetness her lips are offering me, I can't. I want more.

"Bella," I whisper, nudging her nose with mine, sharing gentle Eskimo kisses in place of the searing French ones I'd been careening towards a moment ago. Damn geography.

Damn conscience.

"Edward," she smiles, her lips caressing my name as I wish they'd caress another part of me… another day.

I take a small step back and smile.

"Dance with me?"


	19. Chapter 19

A/N: Singin' in the Rain is one of my favorite movies. Singin' in the Rain is also one of my favorite rain songs... and it should definitely play in the background while you read this chapter.

19.

She's pissed.

In a way, I'm pissed at myself. What kind of an idiot stops a beautiful girl from kissing him? Then again, knowing that she really wanted that kiss makes me want to smirk and walk around with a _very_ manly swagger.

I quickly grab my phone from the kitchen counter. It takes me a moment to find the song I want, and I have an eye on her the entire time. I wouldn't be surprised if she decided to get all mortified or offended or something.

I don't want that. I don't want her to retreat into herself, or the other room. I want to dance with her, hold her close, watch her eyes light up as she enjoys herself. I want to banish all the shadows she carries in her soul.

I also want to know why she was naked under her coat.

Thankfully she chooses to remain leaning against the back of the couch, giving me the stink eye. That I can handle. I'm amazed at how light and… giddy I feel at the sight of her scowling face in my living room.

As soon as Gene Kelly sings the first " _Doo dloo doo, doo doo_ ," I reach out for her reluctant hand. She can't hold back her smile when she recognizes the song, though.

I'm singing along as we twirl around my living room, kitchen, and back, around the couch, sidestepping the bookshelf in the corner. I can't deny my joy when she relaxes into my arms, raising her voice to join mine in song.

And wow, she does have a lovely voice.

As we pass by the door leading to the breezeway we had come through earlier, Bella seems to hesitate.

Then, with a mischievous grin, she pulls me over, and the next thing I know, we are in the midst of rain-drenched glass windows, under a canopy of roses… literally singing, and dancing in the rain.


	20. Chapter 20

A/N: Giving them another moment here... And again, a song to set the mood: _Raindrops keep fallin' on my head_

(Drama will follow by the end of the week, truly)

20.

The song changes, shifting seamlessly to the mellow sounds of BJ Thomas singing about the raindrops that keep fallin' on his head.

We sway gently, and I'm in way over my head.

Her soft hand in my larger, rougher one. Her other hand gently resting on my bare shoulder, her fingers spreading every so often, as though she can't keep herself from reaching out to touch more of me, just as I am burning to touch more of her.

My hand slides softly over the back of her t-shirt, and I can't help but imagine stroking her skin instead. I can feel her warmth through the thin fabric, and it is driving me crazy.

I'm distracted when she closes her eyes and leans her head back with a small laugh. She smells so good. I want to bite her there, at that particular point at the base of her slender neck.

She's moved both arms around my neck, and mine are linked around her waist. She blinks up at the glass panels that make up a good part of the roof of the passage.

"You made this." It isn't a question.

"Yeah. Do you like it?" It's a casual question, but I'm holding my breath for her answer.

"It can't be real," she whispers, twirling away and unlatching one of the nearby windows. "This place, this night, you…"

She laughs as raindrops hit her outstretched hand, and shivers when I wrap an arm around her to keep her warm. I reach out and snag her a just-unfurled wild rose. Her expression is the best reward I could have asked for.

She gasps when lightning flashes suddenly, and presses closer when a crack of thunder startles her. On second thoughts, feeling her in my arms is the best reward.

 _I'm never gonna stop the rain by complainin'_ , indeed.

I can't stop touching her. Thank God, it seems she can't stop either.

Her restless hands are dancing over my bare shoulders, my chest. It's torture, plain and simple.

Her dewy lips part, and her dark eyes entice me closer. This time, I give in. The moment our lips meet, care and caution go out of the window. When her tongue flicks out to meet mine, it's like the world tilts. Nothing exists but this girl, this feeling, this moment.

Holy thunder and lightning, we're at the heart of the storm.


	21. Chapter 21

21.

I still don't know much about the girl, but I do know this. She can kiss.

No, scratch that. She can kiss _me_. Anytime she wants. Anywhere she wants.

Except… maybe not in the back of the Newton kid's car. He's pretty shifty and probably jerks off in there. Anyway, I'm not having his pimply self tainting my time with Bella in any way at all. But if she's up to it, there's a pretty sweet BMW that came in the other day. We could play dirty mechanic.

No, not porn. I got that out of a book. I read, people.

Seth insists reading porn is the same as watching it, but anyone with any intelligence knows it isn't the same. Reading is infinitely sexier. I mean seriously—trying not to cringe at overly made-up, surgically enhanced women and terrible acting, versus the freedom to visualize the perfect woman doing the hottest, dirtiest, fucking incredible things to you—there is no comparison.

Just like there is no comparison to feeling Bella's skin against mine, her lips gentle, then demanding, sweet and intoxicating. Her hair is soft, her body yielding.

The rain is washing away reality, and she's Eve in my garden.

The more I take, the more she offers, and the more I hunger. She clutches at my hair, her tongue sensuously advancing and retreating, teasing me and driving me completely insane.

I push her up against a brick pillar and grind against her, desperate to feel more of her softness and heat. I want her to feel how far she's pushed me, simply by being here.

Mentally, I'm already halfway to my bedroom, with her stripped bare in my arms, when she pulls away slightly. I barely know my own name anymore, but I recognize the pain in her sudden gasp.

I don't have it in me to step away completely, so I shift my lower half away, while wrapping my arms around her.

"Did I hurt you?" I ask after a moment, when I've shut down the mental outcry of my protesting erection.

She's quiet and snuggled close, so right now I'm not sure what to think.

"I… No, you didn't, you're… I just…" She stops, draws a deep breath that pushes her gorgeous chest against mine. I rein in my libido. "Someone did. You wanna go back inside? I… I'd like to tell you."

She trusts me. And she'll finally talk. I grab her around the waist and practically run back into the house.


	22. Chapter 22

A/N: The last date for submission to the Carlisle Uncovered contest is now the 28th of April. I hope some of you are considering writing for it, cause it could be a lot of fun!

22.

I'm sitting at the edge of the couch, watching her pace as she finds her words.

"I've been travelling across the country over the last year or so," she finally begins. "My mom had just remarried, and I wasn't happy doing what I was doing…"

"What was that?" I blurt out. I'm a little sorry for interrupting, but not much. I really want all the details where she's concerned.

"Oh, I used to work as a PA at an accounting firm back in Phoenix." Not what I was expecting, but I nod eagerly so she'll go on.

"My boss was great, he… yeah, the people at work were all really nice, actually. It was a steady job, it paid well, so I never could figure out what I was so unhappy about. Then one day, my mom called. She'd eloped with her latest boyfriend. A Vegas wedding, probably completely tacky and gaudy, and… and there I was, living in a tiny apartment, a… a damned worker ant!"

She's the one who offered to talk, but watching her now, it's like she's fighting herself. She's circling and deflecting, and the note of near hysteria she's trying to suppress… no, this isn't easy for her.

If I wasn't so desperately curious about her, I'd let her off the hook. But maybe I can give her a little time, help her work up to it.

"You don't like ants?" I venture cautiously.

"No! I mean, I'm sure they're ok. But I don't want to _be_ one. I didn't want to grow old and just die in my little cubicle. I felt like I hadn't ever really lived, and I never would!"

I snag her hand and tug her gently down next to me on the couch. She grips my hand back, and I can see that it calms her down considerably. It's a very different story with me… just being near her makes my heart race.

"It was probably stupid, but I quit, packed up my stuff and just left. Never more than a few months in one place, never knowing where I'd end up… except, maybe I was making my way back here, after all."

It's shy, almost tender, the look that passes between us. She was making her way here… to her dad's house, to memories of her childhood, and maybe, just maybe, to me.

"So did you join a nudist colony or something on the way here?" My mouth decides to ruin the moment. "That is why you had no clothes on, right?"

I want to kill myself. Judging by her glare, so does she.


	23. Chapter 23

A/N: Last chapter's reviews showed an overwhelming consensus regarding the proximity of Edward's foot and his mouth.

Ready to peel back another layer or two?

23.

Cushions are supposed to be soft. The ones on my couch feel like they're made of freaking lead, stuffed with stones.

She whacks me again, catching me on my bicep as I shield my head from her attack. I swear I'm going to bruise. Seth will have a field day laughing at me.

"A nudist colony? Seriously?" Her onslaught ends suddenly, as she covers her cheeks with her hands. "Oh my God! You knew I had no clothes on? Is that why you invited me here, and fed me, and…"

She's going off on the crazy train again.

"You didn't have a bundle of wet clothes or anything," I point out, which shuts her up. I'm glad, because I really don't want to confess that I _was_ watching, not while there's anything around that she can hit me with.

Anyway, I saw her, and now she's seeing me without a shirt on, so I think we're even.

She's pouting. "Well, I'm not a nudist. So don't get any ideas."

I nod, but of course it's too late. I've had ideas since the moment I saw her big brown eyes.

"How come you weren't wearing any clothes, then?"

She sucks in a deep breath, and leans closer, as though sharing a huge secret. "I'm a telegram."

"No, you're a girl." Or I'm going nuts.

She huffs and explains. "A singing telegram. You know, book a personalized message and we'll deliver it, complete with singing and costumes, and whatever. People get a kick out of it."

I probably look unconvinced, because she shakes her head and stands. Shimmying her body enticingly, she belts out a very risqué version of 'Happy Birthday' that has me squirming in my seat and surreptitiously checking the side of my mouth for drool. She ends with jazz hands and looks at me expectantly.

I don't know what she expects. Rational thought is on vacation right now. It's just my dick holding fort.

"Feel free to do that anytime, Marilyn. With or without clothing. Yeah."

She drops onto the couch with an undignified thump, throwing her head back with an exasperated growl.

"With or without clothes…" she mutters. Sitting up, she squares her shoulders. "I'm a telegram, not a stripper, Edward. But I… I have done that as well."

"Alright." I nod, because I don't know what I'm supposed to say when she looks at me, so hopeful and hopeless at the same time.

 _Stay here with me, sing to me, and I'll get you a stripper pole and as many trench coats as you want?_


	24. Chapter 24

A/N: Are you reading AdaLovely's wonderful story, Stumbling Home? You should check it out!

24.

She's worrying her lower lip.

She's worrying the faded edge of the t-shirt she's wearing.

She's worrying me with her cryptic statements, and fearful glances, and explanations that don't really reveal anything.

The storm had me all on edge, and now she has my head spinning.

"Look, I'm sorry," she says in a small voice. "I know I'm not making a lot of sense, but it isn't easy… I haven't told anyone. I haven't really had anyone to talk to these last few months, and I don't know why I'm saying all this to you. I sound crazy, right?"

I grip her hand in support and wait, because ready or not, she is determined to talk.

"Haven't you ever done something you weren't proud of? Something you don't want anyone to ever find out?"

Of course I have. But no matter how hypocritical it is, I am not jeopardizing what we can have by sharing my deep, dark secrets. I really don't want this girl to run.

"I'm not asking that you tell me all your secrets. I'm not asking for anything, really," I say softly. She looks at me skeptically. "I'm serious. Am I curious? Hell, yeah. But I'm not _expecting_ an explanation any more than I am expecting a blowjob here."

Her eyes narrow as her gaze lands on my lap. I have no hope of hiding my rather prominent erection. Such are the pitfalls of being well endowed.

"Sure," she says, dragging out the sound.

"Ah, come on, that's not what I mean," I protest. I know she's messing with me, 'cause I see that wicked gleam in her eye. "Just keep talking, girl. Or hey, wait a sec, let me grab a t-shirt real quick."

"No!"

I pause, and she's eyeing my chest again.

"I have a better idea." Her eyes are practically dancing, and I wonder if I should be scared. "I might need a little incentive to get me through this."

I nod encouragingly.

"For every difficult part of my story, you can lose one article of clothing."

I continue nodding automatically, before it hits me. "Strip-storytime? Is that even a thing?"

She raises one challenging eyebrow. I gulp.

This is not going to end well.


	25. Chapter 25

A/N: What an exhausting day I've had! How's your weekend shaping up?

25.

"Wait," I hold up a hand. "The t-shirt counts."

She rolls her eyes and nods with a smirk. Her shoulders are visibly tense, though.

For a moment, I wonder if this is a good idea… if I am the best person to support her through something she is clearly dreading.

But then I figure, who better?

So I hold out a hand again, and breathe a little easier when she sets her own in it.

"I told you I've been moving around for about a year. It was alright, but I was restless. I finally reached Vegas about 6 months ago, and decided to stick it out for a while. It was just… a symbol, I guess. My mother's celebration of life. My search for… something. Long story short, I had some money saved up and was looking for a good time. Instead, I got taken for a ride and robbed. I panicked and basically convinced myself that stripping wasn't such a bad option in that situation. I needed the money, and a job's a job, after all."

Her mouth twists, and I recognize that look of self derision.

"It was so awkward, Edward. I'd had a couple of boyfriends, but I always felt so… I was always… what's that word? Stilted? Boring, the farthest thing from adventurous or flirty or… you know?"

I nod, though I can't see her as any of those things.

"So, the stripping gig. I figured it was the perfect way to get over my inhibitions, get a life, have fun, all that jazz. Well, it didn't work out too well—apparently I wasn't 'approachable' enough. Not sexy enough, not alluring enough… just not enough."

She gestures towards the general area of her chest, and it doesn't take a genius to get what she means. It takes an effort to tear my eyes away, though. Her boobs are perfection.

"I figured I'd cut my losses, take whatever savings I still had, and just make my way up here. Then this guy offered me another job. Oh, he pitched it as so much _fun_ … I was just supposed to get dressed up, accompany these men to fancy parties, and the money was good. I guess I didn't think of reading the small print."

One part of me is still cataloging her alluring shape beneath her shirt, the way just the sight of her lips makes my mouth water, the way her skin feels against mine. Another part of me is battling an almost irrational rage. It makes me sick to think of her so vulnerable, so lost, available for the scum of the earth to abuse as they please.

At this point, I don't know which of us is holding on tighter. I just know that letting her go is not an option.

"I used to be such a good girl. Never put a toe out of line, chose the sensible career path instead of studying literature like I wanted to… because it was 'whimsical and useless', mom said. Seems like I made all the responsible decisions so she could continue being reckless. And it still wasn't enough. She laughed at me, and pitied me for my boring life. Well, how about that, I was a fucking stripper and an escort. Can't call that _boring_ , not by a long shot."

Her laughter is brittle. The storm in her eyes makes the one outdoors look like a gentle drizzle.


	26. Chapter 26

A/N: I'm moving house in a couple of weeks, and there seem to be all kinds of things that need to be done before then. So posting might have to be alternate days after all, at least for a couple of weeks.

(If I can hold myself back, that is. We all know how well that worked before.)

26.

The silence between us is broken by the occasional crash of thunder outside. Her breathing is still choppy, and I can see that she is holding back tears.

We both need a moment to regroup.

"Hey, your story isn't so bad. And you could do better than just _study_ literature. You could _create_ literature. 'The Adventures of a Failed Stripper'… it has quite a ring to it, don't you think? Hell, I can see the copies flying off the shelves!"

She chokes out a surprised laugh, and it might be the most beautiful sound I've heard all evening.

"Oh, I don't know," she replies, deadpan. "'My Night with a Stranger' is sounding better and better at the moment."

"Make sure you write about how amazing the handsome stranger was, and how he rescued you from the most dreadful storm you'd ever seen," I nod. "He sounds like quite a prize. I'm sure people would want to read your book just to know more about him. Maybe you could add a sketch of my… I mean _his_ abs, as bonus content."

Her laughter is real, and I'm a little stunned at just how relieved that makes me. Why do I care so much? I've barely known her five hours and I'm trying to find out her deepest, most painful secrets, just so that I can rid her of the sorrow they clearly cause her.

She leans forward and pecks my cheek chastely, sweetly. It makes my heart beat just as fast as the kisses we'd shared earlier.

I smile and pull her closer in a hug. We're comfortable, her head on my shoulder, my arm around hers.

For a while, we just stay where we are, unwilling to move away. She's looking out of the window, a faraway look in her eyes. I'm looking at the rose I gave her, sitting by itself in a glass on the coffee table.

Bella's been prickly and skittish since she entered my garage this evening, but I'm beginning to understand what that's all about. I thought she was rude to me, but I can see now that she's harsher on herself. Her thorns point inwards, and I wish there was some way I could protect her from her own self.

We watch the rain batter against the window relentlessly, and I sigh. The raindrops dancing down the window pane create strange, grotesque outlines of what my overactive imagination readily imagines to be faces of men… men who used her, men who fed her insecurity, men who degraded her as though her very presence wasn't so much more than they would ever deserve.

But it's just water.

Our fingers intertwined, we watch the storm's impotent fury.


	27. Chapter 27

A/N: Yup, alternate days it is for now. I get fidgety around posting time, though.

27.

"So," I finally ask, "You said someone hurt you?"

Every muscle in her body seems to tense, so I take her hand and place it on my abs. She feels me up all on her own, no nudging required.

Her hands drift up over my pecs, and damn if her fingertips stroking my skin don't feel absolutely divine… if anything divine could feel anywhere near this arousing, that is.

She shifts to face me more fully, pressing her chest against mine as far as she can without actually straddling me and well…

She pulls away with a gasp, but there's a smile lurking behind her pout.

"Are you trying to distract me?"

I shrug. "We had a deal, remember? Since the shirt is already off, I'm giving you a freebie with the touching."

She shakes her head and shifts away, back to her original spot on the couch. Not for the first time this evening, the girl is pulling me in completely different directions—my mind's damnable curiosity is battling it out with my baser physical need to just claim her body.

She turns slightly away and raises her t-shirt. The skin of her lower back is scraped and bruised. My arousal is rudely and abruptly decimated.

"That's recent," I observe. I think I manage to hide my disquiet, distracting myself by taking the opportunity to shamelessly stroke at her skin.

"Yes, that's why I came here. And… it's kind of related to why I didn't have any clothes on."

I perk up. She laughs a little at my expression.

"Well, Vegas, everything… everything that happened there… One day I woke up and couldn't understand what was wrong with me. Why was I in that place? I was running away from a life where I felt trapped by expectations, but all I was doing… this entire pursuit of _fun_ that I was on… it was just building me a different cage. The stripping, the sex… I didn't enjoy it, but at that time, I didn't think I deserved any better."

I bristle, and she can see I'm ready to explode. Her fingers pinch my lips shut when I want to shout and rant at her for even thinking that way.

"Cool it, that's in the past, ok. As I was saying, I suddenly wondered, why did I want to degrade myself? I had a brain, I had the capacity to work hard. I could do any damn thing I wanted with my life. I was in my car and on the road inside of an hour."

She smiles, and there, I see the spunky girl who had walked into my garage, all squishy boots and attitude.


	28. Chapter 28

A/N: Some days, I daydream about things like sleeping and eating and hanging out with friends or you know, shopping... in an actual shop. And then having a slice of cheesecake.

Wow, does that make me sound like Oliver Twist or what? I'm exaggerating, of course. Mostly.

28.

She's still got my lips pinched together like a duck. I'd like to see anyone else get away with something like that.

"I made it to Seattle in about a week. For the first time ever, I just let myself be. It was pretty much the best vacation I'd ever had. I walked into a diner my second day there, and saw an ad for a singing telegram. It sounded like fun, and it was a hell lot better than what I'd been doing the past few months."

"Plus, you can sing," I add, escaping from her wicked fingers. For some reason, my compliment makes her blush.

"Yeah. And it was a good decision. I met a lot of nice people, I was enjoying myself after so long!" She's talking with her hands again, all animated, and excited, and cute. "I hadn't even realized how much it stressed me, being a sexual _object_ all the time, you know? As a telegram, sometimes people would request a more risqué message, for 21st birthdays, bachelor parties, that kind of thing… maybe the outfit I'd wear would be a little shorter or whatever. But it was all in good fun, and I never felt threatened or uncomfortable… until yesterday."

Her face tightens, and I can almost feel the anger and pain radiating off her body.

"It was someone who'd seen me, used my… services… in Vegas."

She fidgets. Her lip trembles and she grits her teeth together to keep from crying. The need to protect her, to keep away anything that hurts her is overwhelming. It's an effort, but I tone down the extent of my reaction. Besides, this is clearly a difficult part of her story, and I made a promise.

I stand, and with one sharp tug, I pop open the button fly of my jeans.

I wish all promises were this easy to keep.

"Wha… What are you doing?" Her words are a protest, but her eyes, her entire body is begging for more. I pause, and smirk when I see her fingers flexing towards me.

"Keeping up my end of the bargain," I say blandly, pushing the jeans down and stepping out of them. I might have pushed my boxers down fractionally as well.

Her eyes can't seem to decide where to look. I sit back nonchalantly and let her just take it all in. Can't blame the girl, really.


	29. Chapter 29

A/N: Submissions are in for the Carlisle Uncovered Contest. Please go leave the authors some love :)

This chapter is a little heavier than normal.

29.

"Is touching still allowed?" she asks.

Her eyes are still on me, but nowhere near my face. I don't point this out, because I think there are extenuating circumstances here. Besides, I like her eyes on my body.

"Will it help you tell your story?" I've been toying with her a bit, but right now I'm absolutely serious.

She finally looks me in the eye, blushes and nods. Alright, then. I open my arms and like a shot, she's on my lap.

This time, there's no feeling up or rubbing up or any other fun kind of touching involved. She's curled up with her head on my shoulder, clearly drawing support from my arms around her.

She speaks against the skin of my neck, her voice quiet, but clear. "He was one of the first people I was sent to, as an escort. I still don't know why… when I figured out what it was about… why didn't I just say no, turn and run?"

"Was it… did he hurt you?" I ask, 'cause I can't hold back.

She shakes her head, and I breathe again. The she speaks, and my heart clenches.

"No, he didn't… or at least, I'm not sure. I… he took me to a party of some sort. There were others… other girls like me, some younger than me, but it was not an orgy. I was always scared it'd be like that… the idea of being used like that…" She shudders. I hold her closer. "So I was always on my guard. I mean, ok, so this guy had me for the night, but I tried to be careful."

She hides her face in my neck, and I can feel the dampness of her tears. I want to comfort her, but freeze. Would my touch spook her?

She surprises me yet again, reaching out to weave her fingers with mine, where they rest on her hip. So I let my other hand stroke her soft hair, soothing her gently.

"I had only one drink that evening, I remember that much. He was pleasant enough, and I was relieved that he didn't absolutely repel me, so I dropped my guard a bit. We left the party pretty late. The next morning, though… I was bruised all over. And I couldn't remember how that happened. I got out of his hotel room fast as I could, and got myself tested for… everything under the sun, really. I was shaken up, and so, so scared. I convinced myself that whether or not anything had happened, I had to get out of there."

She looks up at me, brimful of anger and shame and fear. "A couple of days later, my mom called. Asked me if I'd grown out of being a prude yet. I ended up staying, being 'not a prude' for almost another month."

I really want to meet this mother of hers some day. Someone needs to give her a reality check, and I'm obviously the man for the job.

If I survive the daughter, of course.


	30. Chapter 30

A/N: I'm so exhausted I could fall asleep standing. Oh wait, I did that today...

Also, some really cool stories over at the Carlisle Uncovered Contest!

30.

"Have you told anyone else?" I ask, unclenching my jaw with an effort. "Didn't you think of reporting him?"

She shakes her head. "I wasn't sure what had happened that night. Was I drugged? Was I imagining things? I just didn't know."

She pushes out of my arms and stands, pacing and waving her arms around in agitation. "How do I explain this, Edward? It's not like I was blind to the kind of risks I was taking. I knew, but at that point I just didn't care. I didn't care what happened to me, or where I ended up, or in what shape."

Out of the confusing mess of my thoughts, one vision emerges… her expression of pure delight as we danced under the roses. I want that version of her for keeps. I can't imagine her as this person she's describing, so damn self-destructive and dangerously stupid.

Her expression softens when she looks over at me, and it feels as though she yanked on my heart or something.

What has this girl done to me?

Maybe she reads the question on my face, or maybe she just wants to make doubly sure that my muscles really are as impressive as they look. Either way, she settles on my lap once again. It's killing me to try and reconcile this adorably shy and snuggly girl with the image she's been painting.

I quietly breathe in the sweetness of her skin.

"I didn't stop with the escorting immediately, but I got more careful. More… professional, I guess. Sex, money, that's all. And then, you know, a few weeks later I finally came to my senses that one morning and left."

I'm glad she can't see my face, because I'm in freaking agony. Despite how angry I am at her mother, and how disgusted I am with this man she's been telling me about, I am also unbelievably turned on. All that wriggling around on my lap, her softness all up against me, and God forgive me, but just hearing her talk about sex, in whatever context… I can't help how my body is reacting right now.

I don't want her to know, though. She's opening up and I think we can build on this trust. I want her, obviously, but I also want her around tomorrow, and the day after that. I want her around when the rain stops, and when I'm ready to open up. I want to share all the hidden, lost parts of myself with her.

She's making me weave fantasies, and I'm terrified my crude, calloused fingers will rip right through the dream.


	31. Chapter 31

A/N: I don't think ff is sending out notifications yet, but in case it is, I hope you enjoy this.

31.

"So then, Seattle?" I nudge, trying to steer my mind away from places it has no business being.

"Yeah, Seattle," she sighs. It's a happy sound, though. "Who'd have thought I'd actually prefer cloudy, gloomy Seattle to sunny California, huh?" She turns and giggles up at me. I can't resist, so I peck her nose.

"You're weird," I inform her.

"You're weirder," she counters. "You have a collection of those dinky Russian dolls in your spare bedroom."

"Matryoshka dolls," I interject, but she ignores me.

"And I noticed quite an impressive selection of porcelain tea cups in the kitchen. You could host the Queen of England with that stuff. Where'd you even find such delicate, pretty pieces, anyway?"

I mumble, but she still hears me, as close as we are sitting.

"Yard sales? You visit yard sales to collect fine china? Is that where you got the four turntables over there?" She tilts her head to the right, where my record players are tucked away, and why does she have to see everything? I swear, it makes me feel more naked than… well, sitting here in my boxers.

"Seth, one of the guys at the garage, he loves yard sales, and I may have tagged along a couple of times. It's nothing."

"Sure, it's nothing," she gives me the raised eyebrow.

"Hey, he collects porcelain dolls. Even bobble-head dolls! Carved boxes!" I protest. "I… I just saw this stuff and…"

She silences me with a soft peck on my lips.

"I've got a bunch of music boxes," I spill my guilty secrets at her lips. "And old silverware." Might as well get that off my chest as well.

For some reason, she doesn't seem turned off. Instead, I see a gleam in her eye that I'm quickly coming to recognize.

"Will you show me the music boxes? I've always wanted to see one for real."

When she looks up at me so eager, her hair wild and eyes bright, just… damn. We're off track again.

"Yeah, we can talk about it later. Tomorrow, maybe." If it keeps her with me a little longer, then so be it. "You still want to finish telling me your story?"

Her light dims somewhat, but she nods. "Where was I? So yeah, I met Rose. She runs the telegram place. I was upfront with her, told her the basics of where I'd been and what I'd been doing the past year. She heard me out, and then explained all the ways in which her business was _not_ like what I'd experienced in Vegas. Then she told me I had the job."

"She sounds really cool."

"Oh yes, she really is. And I told you I enjoyed the work, right? Plus Rose took me on as a part-time assistant, filing stuff, crosschecking appointments, that kind of thing. Honestly, Edward, it was like I got my life back."

"And then that guy popped up? How'd that happen?"

Because let's be real. I'm happy she got a reprieve from the sleaze, but I still don't know how she landed up here.

Maybe it's a good thing the girl didn't become a writer. She really can't tell a straight story.


	32. Chapter 32

A/N: Ffn still has issues with notifications, so I'm hoping some of you come check here for updates! Also, voting is on for the Carlisle Uncovered Contest. Even if you're primarily ExB readers, I think you'll find some stories in there that you might enjoy.

32.

"It was the unlikeliest thing," she says.

Her voice is low, but strong. She's strong.

"It was a couple's thirty-fifth anniversary, so their daughter booked two of us for a surprise act at the party. Just performing to a sweet poem their relatives and friends had put together with some pictures as a slideshow."

That sounds… seriously cringe-worthy.

She eyes me and I get the feeling she can guess what's going on in my head. I nod so she knows I'm listening, but it doesn't take me long to spin off on a tangent about how creepy it'd be if she could actually read my mind… or how much cooler if _I_ was the one who could read minds.

Her boobs press up against my bare chest as she shifts to rest her head in the crook of my neck. That breaks me out of my thoughts, and I realize I must have missed something, because she's talking about some woman, who I'm sure I haven't heard of before.

"And I didn't even bother about Vicki, I just dashed out before that creeper James could see me. I had just managed to reach the parking, when I saw him waiting outside, smiling like he was my fucking best friend."

"Why didn't you run?" I protest. My earlier mental wanderings aside, I've never really been so invested in anyone else's life before.

"It was kind of difficult, seeing as he was between me and the car," she snapped back. "Anyway, at first, he didn't try to touch me or anything. He said he wanted to talk, that it was important. Something about how we had a connection, and he had been looking for me. He thought I didn't notice, but he kept edging closer. So I let him. And then, when he was close enough, I punched him in the throat, and kneed him in the groin."

I'm impressed and perversely turned on by the thought of this girl incapacitating that fucking lowlife. She smirks and shifts deliberately, feeling how hard I am for her.

I'm a saint, though, so I grab her by the hips and move her a crucial inch or two away.

"Then you ran?" I nearly gasp out, because the tease is rubbing up against my thigh, and I can feel her heat, and her nipples are poking at the thin shirt, and I'm just about ready to toss her onto her back and hump her.

"No, actually, then he pushed me against the brick wall and I punched him in the face. I think I might've broken his nose. But in our scuffle, I'd scraped my back, and my clothes were torn."


	33. Chapter 33

A/N: We've moved into the new place, and I can't find anything cause the packing people didn't think it was important to label the boxes. Fun times. At least the internet connection is all set up.

Oh, and in the middle of all that chaos, I turned a year older. It's not nearly as much fun without cake.

33.

"So why didn't you go home and get new clothes? Why'd you decide to run to Forks?" In the middle of a raging storm, I might add.

"I told you I'd seen him talking to Vicki…" Ah, so that's the part I missed. "She's an idiot and probably told him whatever he wanted to know. Besides, he was a guest, he knew where I worked. How difficult would it have been for him to trace me to my apartment, or maybe just turn up at work and accuse me of assaulting him, or… or.. I don't know, Edward. I wasn't really thinking."

"Okay, I get why you didn't want to stick around. But the clothes?" Her nudity is on my mind, just a little.

"I actually went back to the office. I had some spare clothes there, and I figured I'd get Rose to take a look at my back."

I nod, because her employer needed to know about this shit.

"What did she say?"

"She was completely supportive. She even took pictures and called the cops. But I was just… I needed to get out of there, so I took a few days off, and decided to come check out my dad's place. I'd been meaning to, but with everything…" her hands wave around and I nod. "Once I got close to this place… the trees, the roads, the smell of the timber, everything… it felt like I was home. I just wanted to reconnect with my childhood, I guess."

She's looking a little defiant and a little sheepish, and if that isn't code for 'I did something stupid, but don't rub it in', then I don't know what is.

"What?" I ask, when she's quiet a beat too long for my taste.

"Nothing! I didn't do anything, ok?" Oh, now I know for sure she did. "I mean, I wanted to see the beaches down at La Push, I used to love going there as a kid. I even found this little alcove I used to play in. I had buried treasure there and everything. So while I was there, I figured I'd climb the rocks a bit. When I was a kid I'd seen the older guys from the reservation cliff-dive from there, you know? Have you… I mean, did you ever do that?"

Well, now here's a question. Do I lie or go with the truth? Maybe something in between?

"Cliff-dive? Not here, I haven't." There, how's that? She doesn't need to know I'm intimidated by the way she just goes at stuff, and punches people, and jumps off cliffs… wait, what?

"Tell me you didn't jump off the cliff."

She fucking blinks her eyelashes at me and smiles.


	34. Chapter 34

A/N: The new place is gradually looking more like home :)

34.

I'm trying not to freak out. I don't have any right to freak out. She can do what she wants, after all.

"Well, I didn't just _jump_ off a cliff. There's a place that juts out, and it's not like I was trying to kill myself or anything." She narrows her eyes at me. "You've never really done it, have you?"

I sputter and stutter and the smile lurking in her eyes spreads to her lips and stretches across her face.

"Wanna try it with me?" Her voice is low, husky and possibly the most alluring sound I've ever heard.

We are pressed so close together, I can feel when her heartbeat picks up at the thought of sharing something like that with me. It makes my heart hammer, thinking of other things I'd like to share with her.

"Ask me again, girl, just like that, and I'll do anything you want," I mumble, brushing my lips against hers softly, briefly.

My fingers trail restlessly over her arms, and she shivers.

We're breathing each other in, nuzzling skin and building heat, and damn, her nipples are torturing me, poking out and making the cotton of her shirt scrape up against me.

Fuck the story, I need her. Her lips press against mine and I know she needs me just as bad.

Light touches and fleeting pecks do nothing for us. We're frantic, sucking and nipping at each other, fighting to get closer. We're struggling, we're drowning, trembling and tugging at each other.

This girl… I need her, and I don't know why. This strange girl, who makes me want to lose control, and just fuck her like a savage. This wild creature, who makes me want to wrap her in cotton wool.

She makes my head spin, I'm so out of breath.

We move apart, panting, and I nearly lose it when she leans back in to lick at my lips. We've moved, though I don't know when, and I'm pressing her down into the couch now.

The damn storm distracts us, with an obnoxiously loud crash of thunder. Her startled eyes break away from mine, and that flash of fear brings me down from my cloud of lust.

She will be mine, I now have no doubt. But before I take her body, I want her mind. I want her secrets. I want… everything.

She doesn't know this yet, but I always get what I want.


	35. Chapter 35

A/N: Things got a little crazy, but I have good news!

a) We're back to regular posting on this story.

b) My story for the Carlisle Uncovered Contest won 3rd place in the Judges' vote, and a special prize for the best plot twist. I'm posting it on my profile in a few minutes, in case you want to check it out.

35.

I stroke the soft skin above the waistband of her pajamas and kiss the even softer skin in the hollow at the side of her neck.

"Will the mermaids eat up our clothes if we cliff-dive?" I ask lightly.

She can't completely hide her startled laughter. Once again, I've distracted her and brought her back to the point in one masterful stroke. I'm just that good.

"You'll never know if you don't try it," she shoots back.

"In this weather?"

She rolls her eyes at me because yeah, she knows what I'm trying to do. So I peck her pink lips and force my body to pull away from hers, sitting back at one end of the couch. She follows with a highly indignant look on that pretty face, and plants herself back on my lap, just as I had planned it.

I can't help the warmth that spreads in my chest at the thought that she was as loath to put distance between us as I was.

"So, where were we?"

"I was about to jump, I think," she replies, settling comfortably against me. Her head fits just right in the crook of my neck. If I turn my head marginally, I can catch a whiff of that enticing aroma I've dubbed _Eau de Bella_. It is very appealing, and makes me want to head straight for a part of her anatomy where I know I'll get more of the same, in a far more concentrated form. My mouth waters at the thought.

"I could see the storm clouds in the distance, and I knew it was still a way off. I… lost myself there for a minute, I guess. Everything I'd been doing the past year, every time I'd been scared and alone, every time I let other people… my mom… dictate my actions… it was just too much to deal with. I jumped, and the voices in my head finally went quiet. I haven't felt that peaceful in a very long time."

She's quiet for a beat, playing absently with the hair on my forearm.

"I swam out to my little cove easily, and put my clothes out to dry. It's pretty sheltered there, and my car would hide me from sight anyway, so I figured it was safe to strip. I was actually pulling out my bag from the car to grab dry clothes when I thought I saw something… a steel blue sedan." She leans back and holds up a hand to stave off the questions that are begging to be asked.

"I don't know who it was, but I was shaken up because it looked like the car James drives. Or the car he drove in Vegas, anyway. Irrational, I know… but I was startled. I just grabbed my coat from the passenger seat where I'd tossed it earlier, and pulled it on." She looks up at me through her lashes. "The storm was already overhead, much sooner than I had thought it would be. I freaked a little, I guess. I made it into Forks, but the rain had started falling so heavily, and well… you know the rest, more or less."

I'm torn between comforting her for the fright she got, and spanking her for stupidity. I might just do both before this night is through… once I get over my disbelief at how unexpectedly tame the reason for her nudity is.


	36. Chapter 36

A/N: I have to mention it, because it's just too delicious not to... this story has 1,111 reviews! Thank you all for sticking with these two.

36.

"You looked upset when you got here," I comment mildly.

She fidgets a little, and I quirk an eyebrow.

"Do I need to strip down further?" I ask, winking suggestively.

I'm only half joking. I'd gladly do it for her—ignore my self-consciousness and discomfort if it helps her tell her tale. Such a sacrifice.

She rolls her eyes at me and crosses her arms.

"I was shaken up, I suppose. I was just getting to a good place mentally, when James turned up in Seattle. It threw me, you know? And even though I know logically there's no reason for him or anyone to follow me, or anything… I'm still jumpy. Back at the garage, at first, I was so spooked, cause I thought if he was following me… if maybe someone else was after me… they'd see my car. They'd trace me easily, and I'd have nowhere to run."

She's starts to shiver uncontrollably, and her eyes are dark and lost. I want to pulverize every asshole who has ever given her reason to feel this level of fear.

"Bella," I tilt her head up gently. "I wouldn't let them get to you. No matter who it was… James, or any of the other fuckers, or even the shadows inside your own head." I knock my forehead against hers gently. "None of it can get to you here."

"Yeah?" she scoffs. "What're you going to do to them? More to the point, why would you bother? I'm here today, but when the storm passes, I'll leave. You aren't responsible for my mess now, and you won't have to ever think about any of it after tomorrow."

"Are you serious?" I blurt out. Because honestly, are we not in the same room? Is she not feeling any of what I am? "You think I go for strip-storytime with any random girl, and cook for them, and kiss them under the roses, and… and tell them about my freaking doll collection?"

She stares at me, her eyes still blank. Then she blinks, and the clouds have parted.

Even being annoying and pigheaded, she takes my breath away, and I know this is more than it should be. She's touched something in me, and I'll be damned if I ever let that feeling go.

I shove her off my lap and she glares, but I stare back unflinchingly. The girl was being stupid, and she's got to admit to it. I've got to stay strong. This will set a precedent, because yes, I'm seeing this going somewhere beyond just tonight, beyond these crazy circumstances. I'm seeing her as more than just some random girl. I'm seeing her… stand up from the couch and pull up her t-shirt.

What. The. Fuck?

"What the fuck are you doing?" I sputter, trying not to choke on my own drool when she tosses the shirt away, making her amazing boobs jiggle.

"Apologizing," she shrugs, shimmying back onto my lap and pressing our bare torsos together.

Oh she's good.


	37. Chapter 37

A/N: I didn't think it was possible to be this exhausted at the end of the day. Still, it can't be too bad if I managed to write this, eh?

37.

The distraction is real.

Ok, so I stole the line from Seth… he always says that when I want him to work, and he's busy salivating over his haul from the last yard sale. Like the time when we found that disgusting collection of glass pigs, for instance. I wanted him to toss the ugly things, and he wanted to spend the day cleaning them, making the damn things shine. Guess who had to stay late, detailing a disgustingly dirty truck? Yeah, not the swine cleaner, that's who. Sometimes, I wonder who runs the place.

Bella rubs her nose up the side of my neck, making me squirm in the best way. Damn, I didn't even know having someone sniff you could feel that good. Takes my mind right off the distractions, and straight back to the object of my fascination.

I groan in defeat.

Not that I don't appreciate the half-naked girl in my arms… oh no, I've wanted her this close and closer even before I knew she was naked the first time round. No, it's just that I'm at the cusp of losing my control, and the first time I take her, I'd like to impress her with my stamina, give her multiple orgasms, make her forget her own name, and the names of any other fuckers who have ever been within touching distance of her.

You know, the usual.

But that sure isn't likely to happen if she's going to make me come by merely breathing.

My eyes shut in pure bliss when she shifts and settles on my lap. We're perfectly aligned, and I can feel the warmth of her pussy lips kissing at the shaft of my dick, the thin cloth barriers no match for the magnitude of our desire.

I can't _not_ kiss her. Her lips are right _there_ , and it'd be a crime to leave them unattended. I attend to them quite thoroughly, and her pussy attends to my dick, and my hands take over her tits, and oh lord, it feels good when her hands rubs down my abs, or tug at my hair.

It's quickly becoming impossible to hold back, and my reasons for holding back were shaky to begin with. We're grinding closer, kissing and biting with greater want, greater desperation. Sometime during our frenzy, we rolled onto the floor and she kicked off her pajamas… or maybe I tore them off, who knows.

Oh, she's wet, and my fingers never want to leave this soft heat.

I'm sucking at her tits and humping her like a madman, but she's making these noises and grunts and her eyes are glazed with unmistakable pleasure. I can't stop, and truth to tell, she won't let me. She jerks and thrashes against me, and the most beautiful expression of agony and ecstasy spreads over her face.

Her eyes find mine, and I'm breathless.

"Bed," she pants, and it's the most beautiful word in any freaking dictionary anywhere.


	38. Chapter 38

38.

She's like a perfect little porcelain doll… pink lips, pink cheeks, dark hair, dark eyes. She's lying on my plain white cotton sheets, and I'm scared she'll smudge if I touch her. Will my rough fingers scratch at her perfect skin? Will she shatter if I hold her too tight?

"Edward," her voice is soft, and seems to melt into the muted percussion of raindrops against my windowpane.

When I meet her eyes, however, her gaze is sharp, almost annoyed. What did I do now?

"Have you changed your mind?"

That jolts me right out of whatever contemplative daze the sight of her delectable body had put me in.

Shaking my head, I step closer to the bed. I still have my boxers on, but the sight of her… I can't help but stroke my cock a little to relieve the goddamn need that is pulsing through it. Her eyes light up and she sits up, reaching for the waistband.

It's fucking painful asking her to wait. But this is important.

"Bella, listen to me." I sit down carefully, not that it soothes my aching balls. "If we do this, don't expect to waltz off in the morning. You need to know this is not a one night stand. This is not some random fuck just because we happen to be stuck here together. You get that?"

Her hand starts to stroke up my thigh, and I think I lose a few brain cells.

"And If I don't agree? What if I _want_ just a one night stand? What then? You going to turn me out?" her tone is sharp, but her hand is trembling.

I reach over and kiss her deep and long, just so she stops blurting out stupid questions.

"Then I'll work to change your mind. But you need to know where I'm at. And… I think it's only fair, before you get in deeper with me… you need to know some things. I won't deceive you, but I don't... I mean…"

Her hand cuts off my nervous rambling, and I can't help but lick at her palm. Rolling her eyes at my juvenile behavior, she pointedly and slowly wipes her palm off on my boxers, stroking my cock for an all too brief moment. I reciprocate without thought, caressing her soft tits, circling her nipples till they harden again.

"Edward, whatever it is, can wait. I'll stay, ok? Whatever you want, just get naked and get inside me, right the fuck now."

A/N: *Whistling nonchalantly* See you tomorrow... oh, and stock up on some ice. I've heard it's going to be a scorcher!


	39. Chapter 39

A/N: Smutty smut ensues...

39.

Never let it be said that I don't take instruction well. The boxers are gone in the blink of an eye, and I'm sprawled over her, every part of my body straining to touch every part of hers.

Instantly, the heat that my stupid rambling had diminished springs back to life, burning hotter than ever. I touch, and squeeze, and lick and suck, and God, her hands on my cock, and I'm never letting this girl go. Never.

"Fuck, Bella, you're so ready for me, aren't you," I pant. She makes an indistinct needy sound, and tries to tug my mouth back to hers. Somehow, I remember to grab a condom, and then at last, at last, I'm sinking into her body, deep and slow. Time stops in a moment of perfection, and then my lips are on hers. I have her hands trapped above her head, and as I start to stroke in and out, her tits graze my chest. She's gorgeous, and I have a sudden flash of her in this exact same position, blindfolded, screaming my name.

"Will you let me tie you up, girl?" I ask, kissing up her neck. "You trust me to blindfold you some day? Shit, you'll look so hot. I'll tease you for hours, but damn, I'll take such good care of you."

I grunt and drive harder, my thrusts quickening as I chase the mounting pleasure she's drawing from me with every involuntary clench of her pussy.

I've never been talkative in bed, but I can't seem to shut up. She's unleashed fantasies I never really realized I had. "Nipple clamps… just the thought of tugging on a delicate chain, pulling on your tits," I growl into her ear, nipping at her lobe. Her body trembles and the way she's pulsing around me, I know she's close. Goddamn, it's hard to breathe, impossible to think.

I pull out, and fuck, the wet suck of her body trying to pull me back in makes me cum a little. She's so in tune with me, it's scary, turning over and raising her rounded ass for my pleasure.

I don't waste a moment, sheathing myself back in her pussy and resuming a smooth, steady pace. I'm fondling her tits with one hand, and circling and pinching her clit with the other. Her noises, her growls and grunts and fucking whimpers are making me lose my mind, so I draw back from her clit, and smack her pert bottom once, twice, thrice.

She fucking howls, and comes so hard her arms can't support her any more. I wrap myself around her, and lose the last vestiges of sanity, pounding into her, biting down on her pale shoulder when I come with startling suddenness.

I think I black out.


	40. Chapter 40

40.

My eyes trace the pale line of her cheek in the uncertain moonlight filtering in through the rain-stained window pane.

The storm seems to have tapered off sometime in the last hour or two, probably while we were engaged in the best sex ever. Or maybe it was when we both lay dozing, lost in exhaustion and contentment, afterwards. I only woke up about ten minutes back, my wonderfully dreamless repose broken by the annoying inconstant drips and pings of the receding rain.

I might have dropped back to sleep, if it hadn't been for the sudden break in the clouds, and the bright spotlight of moonbeams shafting right onto the bed.

I might have drawn the drapes and slept, if it hadn't been for the way her body glowed in the starlight, radiant as the sprites of my childhood imagination… fancies that I thought I had buried years ago, right next to my naïveté and faith in things like miracles, and goodness, and love.

She is so much more than I had expected to find in one person. It's unsettling me. For a moment, my wary heart tells me to get away from this strange girl who has my insides churning, but the very next moment, my arms are drawing her closer. The warmth in her half-open eyes settles deep in my soul, radiating outwards, thawing every forgotten, cold part of me.

Her eyes flutter closed and within moments her body relaxes against mine, her breathing deep and regular. I can't sleep, though. The vision in my arms is far too enticing.

She's the moonbeam I want to capture in my hand.

That annoying, rational, cynical part of my brain reminds me that she is as ephemeral as moonlight. This mystique that surrounds her and sucks me in will evaporate in the harsh light of day. The minute she steps out from this imaginary world I'm building in my head, she'll turn into just another woman, just another fallible, unreliable, disappointingly _normal_ human being. There's literally nothing different about her, nothing special, nothing to set my heart racing, or…

I lose my train of thought when she shifts, scrunches up her nose, sniffles, and hums in her sleep. She's on her stomach now, sprawled across one side of the bed—I can't help but dub it _her side_ —hair wildly cascading over the pillow and over one shoulder, an arm tucked under her cheek, the other reaching out towards me, her fingertips gently lying on my shoulder, as though anchoring her dreams to my reality.

I sigh, because the girl makes me wax poetic.

I don't know how long I lie there, or if I doze again. It seems as though I blink, and the scene shifts completely. I hear thunder rumble its loud way across the sky, followed by the muted pat of rain on grass, a beat that seems to be increasing in tempo with every passing moment. I turn my head to look out of the window, noting that the wind has dropped, no longer rattling and howling and pushing the rain to batter against my windows. The sky is lighter despite the almost unbroken expanse of dark, low clouds that cover the small section visible from where I lie.

The sheets rustle, and she yawns as she stretches. I smile, still watching the light and dark outside.


	41. Chapter 41

A/N: Happy Birthday, Chrissie! Here's some mechanicward, just for you ;)

41.

A quick glance at the old battered alarm clock on my bedside table tells me it's just gone six in the morning. I could get out of bed and start my day—there's plenty to do, after all—or I could stay right here for another hour.

Of course, for the first time in a very long time, I've got someone else to factor into my decision.

She refuses to get out of bed, and she refuses to fall back asleep. That definitely helps narrow my options, because I'm not ready to choose cold, hard, greasy machines over this sweet, soft, snuggly girl. Not yet, anyway.

She's wriggling around, trying to find a comfortable spot. Her feet tangle with mine, and I have to hold back my moan at how good her smooth skin feels against me. Then I bite back a curse, because her restless movement… well, let's just say this kind of friction isn't the best feeling when a guy has hair on his legs. Which is, you know, always, with us manly men.

Thankfully she substitutes pulling on my leg hair with a far more pleasurable exercise… rubbing her lush derriere against my crotch.

And just like that, I'm up.

Before long, I'm teasing her taut nipples, kissing her soft skin, as she rocks back against my cock. She's wet, and I know this because we've not got a stitch of clothing between us. Being naked never felt this good before.

I gently coax her onto her back, and kiss my way down her body. She's delicious, and I'm wondering how I made it through all my mornings before her.

I'm miffed when she pulls away, but then somehow I'm flat on my back and she's kissing down my body. I nearly pass out when she sucks lightly on the head of my very erect cock. I'm still trying to gather my wits when she replaces her mouth with a condom, and then with her pussy. I'm so deep inside her, and then she starts to move... I'm incoherent, because nothing and nobody has ever felt this good.

I can see her, every bit of her, and she's glorious. She is as enticing in the pale light of morning as she was in the dark of night. In fact, more so, because now I can see every curve, every mark and blemish and how her mounting excitement looks on different parts of her body.

This isn't like the frenzy we were in last night, but I still can't keep my hands off her. She's so playful, and I'm falling so fast. I lose track of time, of place, of everything, as we build and build. This isn't a storm of hormones and desire; this is a soft summer rain of want and need, quietly drenching us to the core.

Trembling, needy, I reach up, and pull her flush against my chest, kissing her like a starved man as I come, swiftly followed by her shuddering climax.

"Edward," she whispers a while later, after we come down from the clouds.

I hum and nuzzle against her soft breasts.

"You know what you were saying last night? Just when we… you know."

I stiffen. Fuck, I need to talk to her.

Fucking reality.


	42. Chapter 42

42.

We're dressed, sitting politely across from each other at my little dining table, digging into cereal, toast and eggs like it's the best freaking food on earth. We worked up an appetite last night, I guess.

How'd we get from naked in bed to here? That's what happens when your stomach answers louder and faster than your mouth can articulate a response to a simple question.

I'm alright with it, though. Everything looks better after a little food, right? Even though I don't intend to give her more than the sketchiest outline of my story—just like I know she glossed over most of the dirty details of hers—it can't hurt to have her fed and comfortable. It might make her a little more sympathetic towards me, seeing as I'm the one feeding and clothing her in this scenario.

"You remember what you said about doing things you weren't proud of?"

It's the best I can come up with, even after turning it over in my head for the last half hour. At least I managed to use actual words. The number of times I cleared my throat in the last five minutes, she probably thinks I'm coming down with something.

She's eyeing me warily, and I can't say I blame her. I probably look and sound shady as fuck.

With a deep breath, I continue. "Yeah, so… I actually started this garage when I was twenty."

She raises her eyebrow. "And that's something you _aren't_ proud of?"

"What? Of course not, that's not what I meant." I'm clearly doing a great job with my explanation. "It's more about _how_ I did it, actually. That's the part I've never shared with anyone. You… last night, you shared your story. I figure it's only fair that I tell you mine as well."

Her eyes brighten and she sits up a little straighter.

"I lived in Port Angeles as a kid. When I was twelve, my mom died. It had just been the two of us for as long as I could remember. Then, the minute she was gone, turns out I had a dad as well." Huh. My throat is already dry. I grab the bottle of water she pushes towards me, drinking half in one long swallow. "To this day, it feels surreal to think of him… existing, even. Anyway, he lived in Chicago, so that's where I had to move."

Her gaze is a question I don't need words to understand. I shrug. "It was ok. He was ok. I was actually glad he never tried to be too friendly. That would've been…" I shake my head. So much for not giving her any details. I always end up spilling my guts to this girl.

"I was sixteen when I came up with a plan. I knew I wanted my own life, away from him, away from the city. I wanted to come back home, or as near it as possible. I knew I needed money. So I started earning it. Any way I could."

She sits back and just looks at me. Then she gets up, walks around to where I'm sitting, and leans up against the table.

After a beat of silence, she reaches out a hand to stroke through my hair. I want to curl up with my head in her lap, spilling all my pain, all my loneliness, every stupid, messed up thing I've ever done. I want her to know.

And I want her to stay in spite of it all.


	43. Chapter 43

43.

"What did you do?" she finally asks.

I rub my head against her soft belly one last time, before peeking up at her. I'm not too keen on moving away from her. She's sweet from this angle. She looks concerned, in a way I haven't seen in years, and I know she's impatient to know more about what I did, how I came here. I also see a gleam of something else in her eyes, that makes me want to chuckle. Girl likes the idea of a bad boy, apparently.

Time to disabuse her of that notion.

"What do you think?"

She tugs at my hair a bit, forcing me to sit back. Once I give her a little space, she pulls herself up to sit on the table.

"Well, there are a few things I can come up with. I've seen stuff in this last year, and well… I've read stuff, so…"

I raise an eyebrow. It's just so much fun, getting her all wound up.

"Drugs?" she squeaks out, then clears her throat. "I mean, did you try to get into dealing?" She's found her voice, and rolls full steam ahead. She's so fucking cute. "That's just so dangerous, though. Isn't it? I have heard such stories… and I mean, if you're _dealing_ , then chances are you'll end up using, right? Do… I mean, did you ever? It doesn't seem like it, but I don't know. Was that enough, though? You clearly made enough, but I hope you didn't have to do anything _too_ dangerous…"

Her eyes widen, and her hands are all over the place, waving around in direct indication of exactly how worked up she is. Over me.

I ignore the little extra thump in my chest.

"Oh my God!" she leaps off the table and almost dives into my lap. "You aren't in trouble, are you? People after you? Drug lords? The… the… I don't even know. The mob? Do you have the fucking mob after your ass, Edward?"

Her heart is thumping away right next to mine, a quick, staccato beat that speaks more clearly to me than her words do. Her hands are soft against my face and I fight the desire to shut my eyes and lose myself in the damn perfection of having her wrapped around me.

But even I know that's not the best idea. So I smooth back her hair and peck her trembling lips, and come clean.

"No drugs, no mob, Bella," I say, low and clear. "I said I had a plan, didn't I? I was 16, and I knew what happens if you get caught up with that kind of shit."

"So then?" she asks, her eyes darting between mine.

...

A/N: Tomorrow!


	44. Chapter 44

44.

"You're sitting in the lap of a very accomplished thief."

She doesn't react. I let her have a minute, for the idea to sink in through her thick mane of hair. I stroke through it for good measure.

Finally, she blinks and shakes her head slightly. "I'm sorry, what? I thought you said you were a thief."

"An accomplished thief," I correct her.

She narrows her eyes and pushes against my chest. "Right. You expect me to believe that you did what… hold up a few stores? Shoplift? There's no way you could've stolen enough money that way. Or, you know, not gotten caught. Enough teasing, tell me the truth now."

That's the thing with girls. You tell them the truth and they refuse to believe it. You spin them a damn fantasy, and they're hooked. I'm momentarily tempted to spin a yarn, but I know that's not how I want things with her. I want her, and I want it to be real. Even when real just makes her roll her eyes at me.

"Stop jumping to conclusions, and I'll tell you." She pouts, but her eyes are gleaming with anticipation. "I didn't rob convenience stores, obviously. Or banks, for that matter. I wasn't interested in taking a risk that would most likely not pan out. You know what does pan out?"

I pause, knowing this is my last chance of stepping back. I've never told anyone, and I barely know her. It's stupid. I look out of the window at my drenched garden, and start talking anyway.

"Gems. Jewels. Mostly uncut, practically untraceable." She stiffens in my arms and I know I have her attention now. "You heard of any jewel heists recently? The Carlton Cannes Heist in 2013? The one in Brussels in the same year? The 2009 Graff Diamond Robbery?"

She seems hesitant, but nods at the last one. "Yeah, the most famous heists seem to happen on the Continent, don't they? But trust me, there's plenty that takes place right here in America that doesn't even hit the news."

I shrug. "I used to work two paper routes, do yard work across a couple of neighborhoods in Chicago. I saw things, secrets, illicit shit people thought no one would ever find out. Illegal activity some people didn't even know they were involved in."

I tap her hip to get her to move off my lap, seating her in my chair as I start pacing.

"There was an old lady who lived with an attendant of some sort. A distant cousin or some shit. Whatever, they were both old. I used to trim the hedges at her place, clean the gutters, whatever she needed done. Her son visited every two weeks, and he was pretty awful to her. She always cried after he left. I never understood why he bothered making the trip if he didn't care about her at all. She was sweet to me, though, fed me dinner most days I worked at her place. One day, she told me she'd heard a strange noise from the room upstairs. I went up to check, and you know what I found?"

...

A/N: Heh. What _did_ he find?


	45. Chapter 45

A/N: Lots of good guesses :)

45.

Her hand is holding onto the edge of the table, and she's looking at me so intently, it's turning me on.

"There was a secret panel in the closet. Can you imagine how cool it was, finding something like that?" I chuckle at the memory. I remember being more thrilled about that than the box I'd found inside. "The panel hadn't been shut properly, I suppose, cause a box had tumbled out. A box full of weird, rough stones. I realized he'd been smuggling gemstones… mostly topaz, emeralds, rubies, small diamonds. Don't scrunch your nose like that. What'd you expect I'd find, the freaking Hope Diamond or something?"

She grabs my abandoned bottle of water and takes a long sip. "It would've solved your money hassles in one go, wouldn't it," she comments drily. "But Edward, what did you do? How did you even know _what_ to do?"

"Well, it came in handy that I happened to know a damn good gemologist." I smile, thinking of the old man who had unwittingly helped me out. "He lived a few houses over, so he kind of knew about the situation with my dad and me. I guess he sympathized; maybe he just wanted someone to talk to. He was the one who encouraged me to have a plan for the future, to earn my own money."

I laugh a little, thinking back to how everything had just fallen into place. It was a little absurd, honestly.

"Wait," she suddenly exclaims. "You stole from the old lady? And you conned an old man into helping you? And what about her son, he had to have known you took the stones!"

"Oh come on," I protest. "The son was a fucking smuggler who treated his mom like shit. I didn't steal from _her_. In a way, I removed incriminating evidence from her house that could have got her into a heap of trouble. He never connected me with the gems anyway. And old Mr. Cope was never involved with anything I did. I just picked his brains and borrowed his books and tools, that's all."

She narrows her eyes at me like she knows there's more to it than I'm letting on. I don't want to reveal the embarrassingly detailed Robin Hood persona I had developed at sixteen, so I'm glad when she asks another question.

"Ok, but what about selling them? Wasn't it dangerous, going around with a box full of jewels?"

I nod, because of course it was. "I never dealt with the buyers personally. I networked. Friends of friends, who knew people. People who were looking to earn a quick buck and weren't interested in asking questions. It's actually ridiculous how easy it was. People assumed I was just another go-between, and I was careful. I hadn't taken the entire box the first time, and I didn't sell everything at once. I knew I would need more sources, I couldn't depend on that fuck up. And you know, when I started looking, I tapped into a thriving network of jewel thieves. It was almost… like coming home."

She's on her feet and in my arms before I even realize she's moved. After thoroughly expressing her agitation by twisting my ear and shaking me as best she can, she hugs me close and speaks against my chest. "But what if you'd gotten caught? God Edward, that was just as dangerous as… as all the crap I've done. And you were sixteen!"

I smile, because of course I had been scared. I had been nervous and angry and lonely. But I had always been careful, and I had always held fast to my goal. And here I was, ten years or so later, far from that life, far from those people.

Living my dream, more or less.

I look down at the girl in my arms. Strange how dreams can change.


	46. Chapter 46

A/N: Some days, I wonder what it'd be like to relax.

46.

She declares that we need to snuggle in bed with hot chocolate. I'm not going to argue with that logic. The rain is sheeting down again, and it's unlikely to clear. Just the sight of the leaden skies is enough to dampen any enthusiasm I might have been trying to generate for work.

I don't want to leave her side anyhow. We're working together in the kitchen—she's making the chocolate, and I'm clearing up our dishes from earlier. I set out a pair of matching mugs—a 'bacon and eggs' pair that Emmett and Seth gifted me for my birthday last year—and she pours out our drinks. I add a handful of marshmallows to hers. It distorts the dancing spirals of steam rising from her mug, but she smiles. My heart flips and skips a beat or two.

My revelations don't seem to have scared her away yet. I briefly consider opening up about the seamier side of things, the shady deals and the unexpected violence I dealt with, in the 4 years I moonlighted as a jewel thief. But maybe there should be a limit to the details I share with her. If nothing else, it's safer for her to know as little as possible. After all, seven or eight years mean nothing to thugs who've been swindled and bested.

I always found it odd, considering what they do on a regular basis, but they do seem to take it personally if someone else does the stealing and duping.

Oh well, it's pointless anyway. I've moved on. Uncut stones hold no appeal for me today, not that I ever had the kind of gem-fever that the others did. It was all a means to an end, for me. Unfortunately, some people refused to see things my way. They couldn't comprehend having a goal that didn't involve sparkling, shimmering bits of rock, generously imbued with the thrilling adrenaline rush of sneaking the baubles away despite increasingly ridiculous levels of security.

I suppose everyone needs to have a reason to get up in the morning. That's theirs. For me, it was always about coming home. I couldn't deal with Port Angeles, though, not with the confused and conflicting memories I have of life—and death—there. That's how I ended up in Forks.

She's been processing everything I've told her so far, but I know she wants more. So I decide to share this part of my story. It's a lot more upbeat and I have a feeling she has had enough danger and violence for now.

We settle into bed, and she makes space for herself between my legs, her back to my bare chest, her long, smooth legs tangled elegantly with my muscular ones. We're quiet as we sip the hot liquid from our mugs, watching the annoyingly monotonous weave of rainwater on my window pane.

"You wanna know how I met Seth?"


	47. Chapter 47

A/N: I ran to purpleC305 for reassurance on this one. In other news, have you read The Lantern House by SukiH? It was just marked complete the other day.

47.

She nods. "You seem close to him. Did you know him from before? I mean, from Chicago?"

I grin. She's hilarious with her non-questions and subtle feelers. "No, Seth wasn't a jewel thief like me. I met him when I came back here. He's the reason I ended up in Forks, as a matter of fact."

She turns slightly so she can look up at me easier, but I know it's going to get uncomfortable to have to crane her neck like that. After a minute of awkward shifting and positioning, we find ourselves on our sides facing each other. I don't necessarily like the vulnerability of letting her see my emotions as I talk, but well, being able to see her pretty face kind of makes up for that.

"I'd been hustling jewels since I was 16, and I'd got a part-time job at a garage when I was 18. I liked the work there and I decided that was what I wanted to do. I graduated college early, so at 20, I had a degree and enough of a nest-egg to be able to support myself, no matter what. I found that my mom's house in Port Angeles—the one I grew up in—hadn't been sold. For some reason, my dad just ignored its existence." I shake my head, because that man has never made much sense to me.

"When I left Chicago for PA, I'd already put my mom's house on the market. The money from the sale let me open my own garage, and it made everything look above-board, in case anyone was interested in digging where they didn't need to. But before all that, I needed a car."

It's bittersweet, thinking back to those days, the relentless planning, my never-ending lists, the constant need to do more, to prove myself, even though there wasn't really anyone to see or care what I made of myself.

Still, it mattered to me, and that had been impetus enough.

"I went to this used car place just outside the city. I was looking for a sturdy pickup that would get me around, but this annoying salesman would not listen. He kept trying to sell me flashy, overpriced cars. Never mind that I barely needed a glance under the hood to see that most of them would need serious work to even get out of the lot."

I chuckled at the memory. "So here I was, this lanky 20 year old, completely clear about what I wanted, facing off with this schmuck in a suit that looked a couple sizes too small for him. Every time I asked about mileage, or recent repairs he would go off on some random spiel that made no freaking sense. I lost my temper, and pretty much tore into him about wasting my time and trying to swindle people, and who knows what else. But by the time I was done, he was laughing his ass off, and then he offered to buy me a beer. I was pissed, but well, free beer, of course I accepted."

"That was Seth?" she gasps in between her laughter.

I nod and shrug. "That was Seth."


	48. Chapter 48

48.

"I don't think I've heard of too many used car salesmen who turn mechanic," she muses. "Definitely not what I expected."

I can't hold back my grin. "Seth doesn't really do what you expect him to, actually. He was so thrilled that I knew what I was talking about in that car lot back then, he pretty much declared us blood brothers right there. I think he anointed me with beer or something. He claims he did, anyway. That night is a bit hazy in parts."

She snorts and pokes me in the side. "From the free beer? Such a guy thing."

I waggle my eyebrows at her, but I'm also wondering why she's never had that kind of experience. Doesn't everybody score free drinks at some point?

She rolls her eyes and stretches so that a tantalizing gap appears between the hem of her t-shirt and the waistband of the pajamas she's wearing. Just like that, the low hum she incites in my blood cranks up a notch.

I catch her glancing at me surreptitiously, and we're both hooked. The anticipation builds and builds, even though neither of us moves a muscle towards the other. Her gaze turns more sultry and alluring the longer I refuse to look away. It's like we're trapped in a cage of want that it's unlikely we will ever choose to leave.

When it feels like I can't stay away another moment, I break the connection, flipping onto my back and trying not to let the trembling in my veins break through my skin.

I can feel the waves of desire radiating off her body, and damn, I already know we won't last long. I can hardly wait to give in.

"So, how'd you end up in Forks?" she asks, her voice husky and dripping with promise completely at odds with her prosaic words. It thrills me that we're both playing the same game.

Parts of my anatomy prepare for conquest, a bit prematurely, perhaps.

"Seth's from La Push, but moved to PA looking for work. He didn't have much luck with that, and the car salesman thing was sort of the last resort. When he found out I was looking to open a garage, he practically demanded that I set up in Forks, and take him on as a mechanic. I wasn't so sure, especially given the crap cars he'd shown me earlier. But Seth… well, he's relentless and he makes it damn hard to refuse. Next thing I knew, we were on our way here. We drove around, just getting a feel of the place. The minute I saw this house, I knew this was it. I got lucky, cause the owner was looking to sell, and the adjoining lot was available as well. I bought both, and built my garage…well, the entire set up you see here."

She's so into my story, her eyes are glowing and I am reasonably certain I just earned myself a make out session… or maybe even a blowjob. I love how my weird shit turns her on. The hum between us intensifies, and of course that is the exact moment someone walks into my house, slamming the door shut.

"Hey Ed, did you get washed away by the rain?" a familiar voice calls out. I hear shuffles and clangs and cabinets being opened and shut. Fucker won't step out in a drizzle to come to work, but he'll brave a storm for free food.


	49. Chapter 49

A/N: Sorry about disappearing on you guys. It's been a very demanding few days with dad.

49.

Bella and I sit up and stare at each other for one stunned moment, before I scramble from the bed, grabbing at my jeans in a not-so-graceful dive and pirouette.

I turn back at her soft sniggers, and nearly fall over at the sight of her languidly stretching in my bed, back arched, tits rising up appealingly… I stumble and bang my knee on the bedside table.

"Careful," she teases. "What're you so worried about?"

I pause and straighten. "You haven't met Seth. He's… he could…"

She smiles, gets out of bed and saunters over, leaning up to kiss me soundly. "I doubt he could do anything to top what we did last night."

Then, with a saucy wink and extra sway in her step, she walks out of the room.

I chuckle, because I can't help myself. She's got a point.

I was in bed with a gorgeous woman, in my own house. It's no one else's business, and it's not something I'm ashamed of. If anything, it calls for some serious chest-pounding and bragging. I chuckle and pull on a t-shirt.

Besides, it's going to be a real treat watching her deal with Seth…

Oh shit.

I rush into the kitchen, almost skidding on the tile in my haste. It takes me barely a moment to realize I was right to panic.

At first glance, everything seems remarkably… normal. From an outsider's perspective, I mean.

I know better.

Bella's at the refrigerator, pouring herself a glass of juice. Seth is at the table, a bowl of cereal in front of him. His spoon is suspended in midair and his mouth is still open. The only sign of life is the way his eyes follow every movement Bella makes.

She turns and smiles brightly at him, before joining him at the table. The fucker lights up like a fucking bulb, all handsome face, white teeth and wide grin, those greedy eyes of his gleaming like they do every time they spot a particularly good bargain on his ugly porcelain dolls.

Except she isn't an ugly porcelain doll; she's a gorgeous, flesh and blood girl. His reaction to her is hardly a surprise. No, it's her reaction to _him_ that makes me pause at the threshold.

She's still smiling at him. It makes me frown when I recall how long it took me to tease out anything more than suspicious glares and fearful glances from her last night. And Seth just bumbles in and… what… she's all sunshine in the rain?

I grit my teeth and walk in. Her eyes flicker over me, before settling back on the interloper. He doesn't even bother to acknowledge me.

Stupid fucker with his stupid cut off t-shirt showing off his fucking tattoos. Did he just flex his biceps?

Did she like it?


	50. Chapter 50

50.

"How'd you get in here?"

It takes the fucker a moment to tear his attention away from my girl. That's right. Mine.

I think.

"I have a key," he mumbles around a mouthful of cereal. "Oh, and you have a fallen tree in your driveway, did ya know?"

I cast him a withering look, but it's wasted, because he's staring at Bella again. It's like the ass hasn't seen a girl before.

She's oblivious, looking out of the window. It's not raining now, but I suspect our reprieve won't last very long.

"Edward," she turns back to me. I want to kiss away that wrinkle in her brow. "Do you think we can get to my car? I could get my bag, at least, and maybe you could take a look, see what's wrong with it?"

I nod, because she's right. Our night is over, and it's time to return to the real world. I can't help the wistful tug inside, though. I wish I could paint my reality with the ephemeral magic we shared last night.

"Sure, give me your keys and I'll get your bag. Seth, get to the garage and find the chainsaw. We've got to get the driveway cleared."

…

We're hacking away at the fallen oak. She's in my house with her bag. I know it's irrational, but the idea of Bella wearing her own damn clothes makes me feel like she's removing the last signs of our night together.

My axe hits the splintered wood with a solid thwack. Seth the dumbass couldn't find the chainsaw, but that's alright with me. It's strangely soothing to be out in the misting drizzle, the peace of the morning unbroken except for the rhythmic swoosh and thunk of our axes. I can feel the muscles of my back and arms bunch and release with each movement. Our t-shirts are clinging to our bodies, thanks to the rain and the sweat we've worked up.

Damn, I kind of wish Bella was here to see me right now. I've read more than a couple of books where the girls find this kind of manly display of basic physical skill extremely arousing.

A decisive crack of wood breaks me out of the semi-meditative state I was in.

Right, Seth.

I look him over critically for a moment. He's about as tall as me, muscular and good looking in a friendly, shaggy dog kind of way. His tattoos are pretty badass, though. He definitely has that over me. Maybe it's a good thing she's not out here watching us, after all.

…

"So, you think Bella's going to stay in Forks?"

I purse my lips and hide under the hood of her car. It wasn't too far up the lane, so it didn't take much work to get it back into the garage.

"Seriously, man, she's hot. And you spent an entire night with her, under the same roof! Damn, I bet you're wishing you had tried something, huh?" He's waggling his eyebrows like an idiot.

I want to tell him she's mine; that we did a lot more than just spend the night under the same roof. But there's this uncertainty holding me back. I want her, but I don't know if this is what she wants. I could stake my claim, but what if she decides I _have_ no claim? Dammit, I just want this ass out of here.

"What were you doing here that early anyway?" I ask, trying hard not to let the voices in my head drive me nuts.

"There's a yard sale over in Whiskey Creek. I got inside info they have some rare porcelain pieces. Fuck the storm, this isn't something I was going to pass up."

"You want to head out, that's fine by me," I say, all smooth and gently suggestive.

Unfortunately this fucker never takes a hint.

"Nah man, did you miss the living doll I saw over at your place?" he gestures like a madman. I want to wring his neck.


	51. Chapter 51

51.

Luckily for Seth, Bella walks into the garage at that moment. She's wearing a simple t-shirt and jeans, but oh damn, she wears it well.

She tosses me a smile and wink, making her way to the couch. It's still where I had dragged it last night, right in the middle of the work area. A thrill shoots through me, knowing I can watch her sneakily, just like last night. Unfortunately, so can Seth.

I shake my stupidity off and get back to work on her car. At first glance, it doesn't seem to be anything more serious than damp air filters. I'm going to give it a thorough once-over while I have it here, though. While she was telling me her story last night, there was a part of me that was on tenterhooks, hoping she hadn't landed up in the middle of nowhere with car trouble while making her great escape… considering her luck over the past year, I wouldn't have been surprised.

I sneak a look, and she's laughing at something Seth just said. The way her lips curve, the way her eyes sparkle when she throws her head back and laughs… She's the most beautiful flash of lightning to have ever struck my unsuspecting existence, and I can't help but be glad.

I have to smile when I hear the ridiculous conversation she's having with Seth. She's got him talking about his yard sale collections, and while it is admittedly easy to get him to talk, the depth of interest and the intelligent questions she's asking… he's hooked and he doesn't even know the half of it.

"You planning on staying here in Forks long, Miss Bella?" he asks with a blindingly bright smile and blatantly obvious intent. His fucking 'salesman' face is on.

She responds with a shrug. "I'm not sure. It all depends."

Heh. Fucker was a lousy salesman, after all.

"Really? What does it depend on, if you don't mind me asking?"

He's being so transparent, I'm surprised I can't see the next car through him at this point.

Bella, however, smiles like she doesn't see what he's about. "Well, for one, it depends on work. They've given me a week off, and I'm not sure they'd extend it. Besides, I'm here to check on my dad's house. He passed away about a year ago, so I'm not sure what shape it's in."

Seth practically bounces where he's standing. "Charlie Swan's place? Yeah, I know where that is. Hey, you aren't planning to go stay in a house that's been lying shut for a year, are you? That probably isn't a great idea. Want me to go check it out for you? At least I could make sure the roof and floorboards and things are alright. And with the storm last night… yeah, you never know what you're going to walk into."

To give him credit, he sounds genuinely concerned. He's a good guy, beneath all the annoying flirting.

I catch Bella side-eyeing me, before she grins up at him.

"Could you? That would be such a help! I don't even know when I'll be able to get there, what with the car and all, and to go to a leaky mess of a house in this storm…"

He's flung away his tools and scampered to the door almost before she's done talking.

She's wrapped around my body, her lips hot and demanding against mine, almost before he's out of the door.


	52. Chapter 52

A/N: I hope every one of you is having a much better day than I am. In case you aren't (because, well, life) I hope you can find those small moments of peace to regain your sanity.

52.

She's insatiable, her hands in my hair, tongue in my mouth, and holy hell, this is what I've been craving.

I'm holding her close, but I need her closer. She's writhing against me, her desire obvious. I would have laughed at her needy, frustrated growl if I wasn't just as far gone. I slide my hand under her t-shirt and groan, because it's not enough… I need more of that smooth, soft skin. I need more of her addictive, heady flavor on my tongue. I need to get her out of these fucking jeans.

Stumbling, fumbling, I can't let her go long enough to get to the couch. Instead, I press her up against the nearest car, grinding against her as I try to work her shirt off.

It takes me a moment to realize she's pulled away, but things come into sudden, sharp focus when she smacks me at the back of my head.

"What? Fuck… what was that for?"

She crosses her arms and raises an eyebrow. "I don't know. You tell me. What was up with you all morning? One minute we're in bed, and the next thing I know, you're practically ignoring me. You didn't even introduce me to your friend; I had to do that shit myself!"

My eyebrows shoot up, because really?

"Um, excuse me if I was taken aback by all the flirting you were doing with Seth. I didn't even know what to tell him about us at that point!"

"Flirting?" She's seriously pissed now, and her agitation is clear in the flailing of her expressive hands. "I was being _polite_ to your friend. Someone I thought was important to you. And what do you mean, what to tell him? We… what do you think we are doing here, Edward? You were the one who said it wasn't a one-night stand. So why would you act so cold? Was it just a bunch of meaningless words last night?"

She's worked herself up into a state, and I can see the tears shining in her eyes, with a lifetime of hurt behind them. But it's her frank bewilderment that cuts through my stupid haze of jealousy. I'm standing gaping at her like a fool, but all my annoyance, anger, frustration… it immediately ebbs to a point where I can at least try to see things a little objectively.

Shit. Everything that has happened this morning suddenly looks a lot different, and I know I fucked up.

I try to speak, but she shakes her head.

"Look, it's ok. I should've known better than to think… to expect you to be any different. Just fix my car and I'll go."

She takes a breath and I open my mouth again, but not fast enough. "You could've just told me, you know. You didn't need to make me think this was something more…"

I finally figure out how to stem her endless flow of needless words. My mouth on hers, my arms around her angry form, and in seconds, her hands are gripping at my shirt, sliding up to caress my face, tangling in my hair.

I want to drown in the emotion of this moment, because this kiss is us—raw, vulnerable, desperate, lost.

"Bella," I whisper, in between soft pecks. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I'm an ass."

I fucked up, but I'll do everything I can to fix it. I can feel her shudder, and the way she draws in a deep breath. I stroke her hair back and drop kisses all over her forlorn face. She looks a lot like I feel… reeling in the aftermath of an emotional storm we never saw coming.

Her lashes are wet when we part. "No, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have assumed. It's just, when we shared all that stuff about our pasts, and then… you keep kissing me, and I thought… it felt different with you."

"It _is_ different, Bella," I cut in, desperate to fix this. "It's not just you. I feel it. I want it."

She isn't convinced; of course she isn't. "What exactly do you want, Edward?"

Well, that's easy.

"You."


	53. Chapter 53

53.

She huffs, pushing at my chest.

"I know I messed up, but I'm a fast learner," I insist with a grin.

"Yeah?" she asks, regarding me through her long lashes. The way she looks at me makes my heart race. "What have you learnt so far?"

Well, for one, I've learnt that I'm in her good books again, but I don't need to gloat about that. So I go with the other, not so exciting stuff I've learnt in the past 18 hours—or the last five minutes, whichever.

"I've learnt that I have a jealous streak where you're concerned. I've learnt that I really didn't want to share our time together with anyone else. I've also learnt that you're scary when you're pissed, but that it turns me on. I don't like to see you looking sad, though. And I definitely don't want you to think this doesn't mean something to me. It does. It's important. In fact, I think we need to sit down and have the talk."

"The talk?" Her eyes are laughing at me, though she keeps a straight face.

"Yeah. The what-are-we talk."

"Humans, last I checked."

I adore her sassy face, but I don't want her to know yet how much of a hold she has on me, so I roll my eyes.

"Focus, child. We need to talk about our relationship." My hands are all over the place. I think she's rubbing off on me. Or maybe it's expressive of that small part of me that can't believe I'm actually saying all this. I've never been at this place before, let alone so soon after meeting someone. "I couldn't handle the insecurity of thinking you were going to choose Seth over me, and I actually like the guy. I need to know we're committed and you aren't interested in anyone else. And I need you to know that I'm not. I mean, there's no one else. Just you."

"You're cute when you flail," she says with a smile. "But I agree. We should talk. Especially if we are really going to have a relationship."

She almost giggles around that last word, and it warms me.

I look around the garage. "Ok, so then… should we do this back there at the couch?" There really isn't any suitable alternative here.

"Let's talk back at the house," she suggests, stepping closer, right up against my chest. "Right after I take care of something of extreme importance."

"Yeah, what's that?" My voice is low and rough, because I'm beginning to get the picture here, and damn, it's looking pretty good.


	54. Chapter 54

54.

Bella has the best ideas.

Ok, so maybe not things like the stripping and working as an escort, or even cliff diving, but ever since she's met me, it's like she's tapping into her inner Einstein or something.

Case in point, strip-storytime last night. I mean, that was inspired.

And right now, in the backseat of this BMW, she's completely blowing my mind. She tossed her t-shirt onto the front windshield before hustling me into the back, so it's a partial curtain against reality. It's like we're in a parallel universe of awesomeness, because reality can't possibly be this good.

Oh, so good, especially when she uses her bra to tie my hands together and tucks them under my head. She takes a moment to enjoy the sight of me spread out at her mercy. I'd say I have the better view.

Or, even better, when she pulls apart my button fly and debriefs my extremely excited erection. Lust lies thick in the air between us, but my cock swells thicker when she leans over and takes it into her mouth. Just like that, no preamble, no preliminary build up of anticipation. Just her wonderful, soft, warm mouth sucking me in like she can't bear to be away from it another minute.

Either I was a saint in a past life, saving puppies and old ladies, or this is God's way of compensating for every moment of hurt and loneliness I have experienced in this life.

She licks down just under the head of my cock, and coherent thought is gone. There's more sucking and licking and her hands on me, her lips pulling at my sac, licking and nuzzling and pumping me into a frenzy. Pre-cum leaks and she leisurely strokes my cock, bringing it to her lips and painting them as though with gloss. It's a superhuman effort not to come at the sight.

Or when she licks every drop off her lips.

Or when she decides to coat her nipples with the fluid, before dangling her tits like succulent fruit over my open, panting mouth.

It's a strange, sharp flavor, but beyond that I detect the sweet taste of her skin, and it drives me absolutely crazy. I'm licking the hard nipples, scraping them with my teeth, rubbing my face against her soft, heavy tits, sucking them into my mouth, lost so completely in her that I don't even realize when she pushes off her jeans and underwear.

My cock notices this interesting state of affairs first. But then, he's got a vested interest.

She grabs my cock and rubs the head through the folds of her pussy. Back and forth, growing wetter with every pass, using the slick fluid to pump me harder, faster, till I can't take it anymore.

The restraints on my arms were more notional than real, and it's the matter of a moment to free myself. It's a strange kind of bliss to be able to touch her.

In fact, it's all bliss after that. Inside, outside, binding us both together, waves and waves of delight.


	55. Chapter 55

55.

It tickles where her breath hits the side of my neck in irregular spurts. I protest when she tries to move, though.

"We're making a mess," she observes after a moment.

I grunt something incoherent and shift her just enough so I can drag off my t-shirt. She obligingly uses it to clean us up, tossing it somewhere once she's done. I can't care where. I can't care about anything in this moment except for the feeling of her breasts pressing up against my bare chest when she lies back down.

She's warm. I'm alive.

Her giggle makes me smile. I open an eye and look a question at her.

"We fogged up the windows," she points.

"Hmmm, you're right. What should we do about that?" I ask lazily, running a finger up and down her spine. Even her goosebumps are pretty.

The quiet intimacy of the moment is broken by a herd of elephants charging into the garage.

Alright, it's just Seth… again… but he is noisy as hell.

"Bella! Bella, I got some bad news, and some… hey, Bella? Ed? Where are you guys? Oh great, they probably went back to eat. Damn, they should've waited for me. Wonder what's for lunch…"

Bella and I share a wry look, before her eyes twinkle with sudden mischief. She winks and places a finger gently against my lips. We wait in silence, listening as his loud monologue continues through the garage, closer and closer to where we lie.

We know the moment he spots her t-shirt on the car's windshield, because he stutters and chokes on air. His hacking cough has barely died down when Bella reaches out to the nearest window and places a perfect handprint on the glass, before dragging it through the condensation in excellent imitation of that scene from _Titanic_.

Then, we ruin the moment by breaking out into uncontrollable laughter. We pull on our pants, which is quite an awkward act to perform inside the confines of the car, before I hop out to grab her top.

Seth is standing there, gaping at the car, eyes bugging out and one hand extended to point to the lone handprint. He's still in much the same case when Bella joins me, fully dressed, a minute later.

His eyes seem to grow even larger, and his trembling finger swings wildly between us, from my bare chest to her smug grin, before he settles on our linked hands.

Huh, I hadn't even noticed we'd done that till he pointed to it.

…

"You guys could've told me," Seth grumbles. An hour later, and he still looks put out at finding out that he doesn't have a chance with Bella.

Or no, it isn't that, exactly. It's that he was wrong about what was happening between the two of us. I don't see what made him believe that we weren't together in the first place. I mean, how many women has he seen stay over at my place in all these years? Ridiculous.

I wonder if I should make him detail the car. Nah, Bella would probably think I was being gross and mean. We may have made the momentous decision to date exclusively, but that doesn't mean she can't change her mind. I'm not going to do anything that'll make me unattractive to her.

She's much better about dealing with his cranky ass than I am. He isn't refusing seconds when she offers him the platter of paninis. To say that Bella was thrilled to see that I had a panini maker would be an understatement. I think that's a definite plus in the 'date Edward' column.

My eyes meet hers, and it's like Seth's grumbles fade away into the background. She blushes. The breeze splatters a scattered spray of light rain across the window sill. The smell of damp earth makes me smile.

Bella leans across the table and kisses me… long and slow and meaningful. I think it's safe to say that she'll stay.

A/N: Journey's end draws near.


	56. Chapter 56

A/N: So, a tree fell on my car. And that wasn't even the most exciting thing that happened this past week. Yeah, you can probably imagine the kind of things that kept me away.

Oh hey, did I mention this is now completely written?

56.

It's raining again.

I sigh and stretch, tossing the greasy rag onto the workbench. An arm braced against the doorframe, I take a moment to watch the relentless precipitation. Lightning leaps out of the inky darkness, its pale light making for eerie shadows.

This kind of rain, Seth always says it's like someone up there left the shower on. I tell him it's more like someone up there's pissing on us, but maybe that's just me.

This kind of night, I always wonder what's coming. A month back, I was sure whatever was coming was… well, nothing good. I sing a different tune these days. Oh hell, I sing these days. And whistle while I work. And stare off into the dark rainy night, reliving just such a scene that played out in ways I could never have imagined. A night that changed my life.

Or so Seth insists. Anytime I grumble about it to Bella, of course, she backs him up. She likes the idea that she changed my life. She's annoying when she gets like that, all smug and gleeful, but she's also adorable, so I let her have her fun. Besides, I changed her life as well, so we're even.

A crash of thunder brings me back to the storm outside. A series of lightning bolts illuminate my yard for almost a whole minute. Shit, the storm is going nuts. I'm glad I sent the other guys home early.

I start to go back inside, but the low hum of an engine makes me turn back. Light from a car's headlamps cuts shaky arcs onto the wet asphalt. I hear the engine being cut, and then nothing but the beat of heavy raindrops and swirling, rushing water.

For one second I think it might be a neighbor. But why would anyone still be out on such a night…

I hear a car door slam, and fast footsteps come sloshing, splashing, closer and closer. A moment later, I can see a dim figure turn into my driveway. The closer they come, the better I can see, thanks to the light spilling out of the garage windows.

It's a woman, wrapped up in a long trench-coat, holding up a plain, dark umbrella. My back stiffens, because this is not something I want to do.

Yet I step back and let her enter, shutting and locking the door behind us.

She tosses aside her umbrella. Sleek blond hair pulled back in a ponytail, bright blue eyes, and a painted mouth twisted up in a grin—she hasn't changed much in the last ten years.

"Edward." She greets me with a hug and big, smacking kisses on my cheeks. I try not to grimace, but she sees, and laughs in utter delight.

"Tanya." I raise an eyebrow at her.

With another laugh, she nods and looks around the garage. There's no one else here, just as she had asked. Just us and the fucking rain. The roof drips away steadily.


	57. Chapter 57

A/N: Ah, maybe I should've mentioned, no one was hurt in the car incident. Call it divine intervention, we got away with a tiny dent on the roof!

57.

"Nice place, Masen. All this is yours, huh?" She's talking to me, but her eyes are still scanning the garage. Every shifting shadow, every swoosh and howl of the wind, every raindrop is suspect, as it should be. When you're in the business she is in, a little paranoia is a good way to stay alive.

"Yeah, all mine. And what brings you here this fine evening?" I'm being facetious, but if I thought it would annoy her, I'm way off the mark. She claps her hands in delight, practically bouncing with glee.

"I can't believe we're doing this again. Are you excited?" She sidles closer, and I have to fight off the impulse to lean away. "I'm going to blow your mind, trust me. Wanna see what I'm hiding under this coat?"

Before I can react, the sash is untied and she's moved on to the large black buttons of her long navy coat.

I confess I can't look away.

She dips her fingers into the deep cleft between her breasts, and pulls out a small pouch.

From beneath the waistband of her jeans, she pulls out a three-inch long, sleek black soft case.

Another foray into her bra brings up a couple more pouches.

A hidden pocket in her jacket.

Inside her right boot.

Her left sock.

Laying them out in a line, she begins emptying the cases one by one. Individually wrapped uncut gemstones, a whole variety of shapes and sizes, tumble onto the faded fabric of the garage's couch.

The rustle of paper and cloth soon overlays the steady thrum of rain.

I examine each one, meticulously noting the individual features that make them unique… and extremely valuable. Even in this rough state, the brilliance of the stones shines out against the rough cloth. It's the hidden fire of the earth; I idly wonder if I'm going to burn my hands on this deal.

She sits on a stool watching me closely but silently as I rewrap each stone; then hands me a nondescript oilcloth in which to store the lot.

"Not lost your touch, huh?"

I sigh, but I can't hide my grin. Yeah, it really doesn't feel like ten years. She winks and stands, refastening her coat.

"Irina will be over in three days time," she says, picking up her umbrella. "Think you can hang on to them that long?"

I have to laugh. "I haven't changed that much, Tanya."

She casts another glance around the garage, and then up and down my body. Her eyes are sharp, but soften as they meet mine. "Ah, but you have, Masen. And it isn't a bad thing."


	58. Chapter 58

58.

Tanya hugs me one last time. "Thanks for this. I promise I won't ask it of you again."

And she's gone, just another flash in the storm.

Maybe that's the best way for the past to go. Just like that. No lingering, no small talk. A favor for a friend, best forgotten.

Soft arms encircle my waist. "You're hot as a jewel thief."

"Bella, I asked you to stay at the house, didn't I?"

"Can I see?" Bella ignores my words. She's all eager face and bright eyes, and I really don't want her here right now.

"No, you can't. I told you, the less you know, the better. I don't want you mixed up in this." I try to look stern, but she just looks at me with a bemused expression.

"What's that look? Do you have gas? I have this herb mix that's really good for it."

I roll my eyes. "No, Bella, I don't have gas. I just don't want you involved in this business."

"That's silly. I'm here. That means I'm involved. Anyway, you aren't going to get caught, so it's alright. I won't get caught either."

"Oh, so sure, are you?" I smile, pulling her close.

"Edward, that's not even a serious question, is it?" She gives me an exasperated look, before pulling me down for a kiss.

It's never just one kiss for us, though. It's probably a good ten minutes before we let go of each other.

In the month since the storm blew Bella into my life, we haven't spent more than three days apart. She stayed the week with me while we surveyed her dad's house. It was in a pretty bad state, what with water damage and general neglect. She didn't want to keep any of the stuff, so Seth organized a yard sale for her… after he kept aside a truck-full of stuff he wanted for his own collections.

I left Emmett to run the garage (much to Seth's chagrin) and followed Bella to the city for a week after that. It was good, right until I saw her dress up for a performance at some chump's 21st birthday party. I might have had a jealous meltdown. Bella threw me out of her house. I still hung around to make sure she got home safe. Then I drove back to Forks and drowned my angst in an all-night online video-game blitz.

I woke up the next day, bleary-eyed and sore from falling asleep on the couch, and found Bella at my doorstep. We made up, we made out, and I got to play out my fantasy of tying her up and blindfolding her while I fucked orgasm after orgasm out of her willing body.

Things had just begun to settle down when Tanya got in touch with me.

Older than me by five years, she was one of the few people I had trusted back in Chicago. She needed a favor and I couldn't say no.

Bella didn't even try to hide her jealousy. She channeled that shit a lot better than I did, though… by buying a pair of nipple clamps. I don't think I've ever been happier, or harder.

Yeah, last night was a _good_ night.

But tonight, no matter what she does, I'm going to stay strong. No bending to her will. No way, no how.

"This isn't up for discussion, sweetheart. I'm going to put the stones away, and we're going to forget they exist." I walk her firmly to the door leading to the breezeway.

"Hey Edward," Bella looks up at me with a slight frown. "Don't you need to get those?"

I turn, and yeah, I forgot the damn jewels.


	59. Chapter 59

59.

"I don't care!" she exclaims, pacing the room, her free hand waving around in agitation. "I am not… no, you listen to me. It's not my problem, alright? You married him. You deal with his shit. I'm not going to… Fine, then, we're done. Just lose my number, Renee."

With a growl, she throws her phone onto the bed, then picks it up and throws it again. I'm impressed, cause I would've probably chucked it at the wall, and then I'd have to buy a new one. My girl is smart even when she's mad.

I fidget a little as she continues to fume, her hands in fists, tension and anger radiating off her body. I've been around for a couple of calls from her mother, and it never ends well.

Now, this is not something I'm going to share with Bella, but I'm ok with that. I don't think that woman deserves anything more than to have the phone slammed on her. Or, you know, forcefully disconnected. The angrier Bella is with her, the less likely she is to actually have a conversation with her. The fewer actual words they speak, the shorter the timeframe for Renee to try to verbally attack my girl.

Judging by the sound of it, this last phone call was more about demands than criticism. That's a new one.

"What now?" I ask, when she still hasn't spoken anything more intelligible than random angry sounds for about five minutes.

"Hah! That woman… Urgh! She's just… it's beyond frustrating. I mean, after everything she's done… it's all been about her. She taunted me all my life because she thought I wasn't good enough at anything. She left me home unsupervised, no food, no fucking care, because she wanted to party or whatever the fuck she did. She made me hide away, pretend to be a neighbor's kid, her niece, her sister, because she didn't feel like acknowledging to people that she had a daughter. She has never been there for me, Edward. And she's used me, messed with my feelings, guilted and manipulated me, and I'm just so done."

None of this is news, unfortunately. One of the things I like best about being with Bella is that she's so upfront about what she's thinking and feeling. It makes me want to slap the shit out of her mother, though.

"You've been done a long time, baby," I remind her. I stand and wrap her trembling body in my arms, rocking her gently. "But she'd only realize that fact if she took her head out of her ass for a moment. We both know that isn't likely. So tell me, what did she want this time?"

"That guy she eloped with… he has some scheme he wants to invest in. They don't want to use any of their assets, so she called to demand that I hand over the amount they need. 'Sell something, Isabella!' 'Would you rather let your money rot in a bank than give it to your own mother?'" she mimics Renee's high pitched voice, complete with facial contortions. "In her fucking dreams," she growls, and I have to shift discreetly to mask my reaction.

What? Angry Bella is fucking hot.

"Dude, that's low, even for her. Seems like the new husband is a great influence." I frown seeing that she still looks upset. "Hey, want me to find out some dirt on him? No way a guy like that is clean. Maybe we can make his life a little… interesting."


	60. Chapter 60

60.

Bella finally cracks a smile, though the look she's giving me is skeptical.

"What, you're an occasional PI as well as a jewel thief and mechanic? And how're you planning to execute this plan?"

"Ha, ha, you're so hilarious," I deadpan. "I know people, babe. And I'm an _ex_ -jewel thief. Retired. Out of the game. Still legendary, of course, but definitely not burgling the shiny stones any more."

"Oh, so that's why there's a bunch of those 'shiny stones' hidden away in that concealed safe of yours."

I roll my eyes, because this is not the first time she's brought up the gems that I'm still adamant about not letting her near.

"Darling girl, this is a one-off. I'm helping some old friends out in a very passive way. They'd do the same for me. Any itch in my palms is satisfied through yard sale collections now."

She pouts, but gives up on the jewels for now. "I get that, but come on, you seriously think the sparkly thieves' network will find anything on Renee's husband? What, you think he's in the business?" Her tone is heavy with sarcasm, but even as she utters the last sentence, I can see her head go off on a fantasy trip in that direction.

"No, definitely not. Jewel thieves usually have some class. He sounds too skeevy to be one of them."

"You were going to say 'one of us', weren't you? What are you, Thomas Crown? You probably have a spy fantasy going as well. Want to practice that accent for me tonight, Mr. Bond?" she croons in a terrible British accent, batting her eyelashes at me.

I roll my eyes, cause I'm definitely putting word out… right after I kiss the silly out of her.

…

Turns out, I don't need to worry about Renee or her husband.

The very next day she calls again, crying and wailing on Bella to come rescue her. It seems like the husband is wanted for fraud in 5 states. Renee is being charged as an accessory.

Such a fucking surprise.

My girl is way too sweet for her own good, but this time, she really has had enough. She tells her mother—nicely—to talk to a lawyer, and politely but firmly draws the line at any sort of involvement with that mess.

She's a saint. I'd have jumped at the chance to gloat at Renee's situation. "Serves you right", or "Up yours, bitch"… there are so many short, pithy little lines that are dying to be used for just such a situation.

But as I said, Bella is better than that. She hangs up the phone and stumbles into my arms. She won't say anything about it, I'm sure, but she's just broken through one of the toughest bonds that had dragged her down her whole life.

I'm very, very proud of her.

And maybe just a little pissed that I didn't get to go all Jason Bourne on that lowlife's ass.


	61. Chapter 61

A/N: Thanks for all the lovely reviews, and hello all you new readers! Good timing, seeing as we have just one chapter after this one.

Hey did you guys check out Layathomemom's new story? _Burning Saints_... just one chapter in and it's got me wanting so much more!

In other mobward news, Fyrebyrd's _Operation Nail the Swan_ just updated.

61.

It's a quiet evening when Irina drives up in a nice Chevy Sonic. It's as red as the heels on her feet.

And, I strongly suspect, the color of Bella's face, when Irina jumps into my arms and kisses me smack-dab on the lips.

"Darling, I have missed you," she croons, her nimble fingers dancing over my torso and sides.

I twist away quickly, but not fast enough. She laughs, holding up my wallet. When did she even get near my back pocket? And why am I even surprised? The woman is a fucking octopus. Hands all over the place.

She tosses it back to me and saunters around the garage, peeking into cars, poking inside open hoods, picking and weighing the odd wrench or screwdriver.

You wouldn't know it to look at her—smart dress and manicured nails—but she's really into machines. She was the school's guidance counselor back in Chicago. Despite her youth, she was pretty good at her job, at least from the perspective of a student. Young, hot, she really got what kids wanted, what they needed to get ahead in life. She put me in touch with the garage where I worked part time while I was in high school.

She also put me in touch with some very high profile buyers. She has a lot of hidden talents, I guess.

"You need to fire this guy," she says, pointing to a cluttered workbench next to a partly dismembered bike. "Look at the state of these pliers. You can't respect a guy who doesn't respect his tools."

I grin and nod. That's Seth's stuff. And I just saw him walk into the garage. This is going to be fabulous.

…

I think it'll take Seth a week to recover from hurricane Irina.

She chews him out about everything, from the way he was working on the bike, to the way his t-shirt messes up her view of his tats.

Then she kisses him—with a lot of tongue, which I did not need to see.

At this point, Bella appears next to me and just stands there gaping.

"What the fuck?" she whispers to me, furiously gesturing to where Irina has a terrified Seth pinned up against a car. "Is she like that with everyone… all the kissing and fondling? Am I next? There were onions in my sandwich. Should I gargle, do you think?"

"I… What?! And what're you standing around here for, anyway? I thought you had a very important job to take care of."

She giggles and nudges me. "The baby is in the bassinet."

"The baby is…. Bella, that's just weird."

"Oh, fine. What would you prefer? The pig is in the poke?"

"Where did you even…"

"The turd is in the punch bowl?"

"Bella… that's nasty."

"Veni, vidi, vici!"

"Ok, now that's enough…"

"Mission accomplished? That's just boring," she gives me a long-suffering look. It makes me want to cuddle her. What has this girl done to me?

"I'll show you boring," I mutter, leaning down to nip at her neck, right at the point where I know she's ticklish. She squirms and skips away with a grin.

"Stop with the foreplay and go finish up your nefarious transactions, mechie. I think Seth might pass out otherwise."


	62. Chapter 62

62.

It takes me the better part of half an hour to peel Irina off Seth, and back into her car where Bella has already stashed the gems, as she so creatively informed me.

Yes, I finally caved. I showed Bella the jewels and laughed when she made a face at how 'ordinary and ugly' they looked. She was more impressed when I told her how I was going to transfer them, though—and insisted on helping.

I agreed, because first, it would be far simpler for her to do, and second, it's pretty impossible to stay strong when she decides to ask naked.

So I let her help me fix the stones up in plain old bottles of shampoo, conditioner and bodywash, and while everyone was distracted by Irina's exuberance, Bella quietly added the extra bottles to the grocery bags in her trunk. Simple as that.

What isn't simple, is convincing Bella that a life of crime isn't as much fun as she seems to think.

"Oh come on, Edward. I'm not saying I want a life of crime. I'm just saying it was fun today, what we did. The whole cloak-and-dagger thing, hiding jewels and making a drop." She's practically bouncing on the bed, rubbing her hands with glee.

"Baby, as I've told you before, this isn't a movie where we live fabulous lives and drive fast cars, ok? It's dangerous." I clutch at my hair in agitation. This really isn't something I wanted to get back into, and now, with Bella… "Tanya and Irina… they're the fucking tip of the iceberg. The people they will be dealing with are ruthless. The only reason these two have made it so far without being killed or arrested, is because they're as meticulous as I was. Two or three deals a year. A well documented public life. It's a lot of needless subterfuge and I'm fucking glad to be out of it."

A peek at her face tells me I might have come off a bit harsh. I groan.

"Bella, I'm just saying…"

"I'm not stupid, Edward. And I don't… you're just… You know what, forget it," she huffs and turns her back to me.

…

I toss and turn; the aftermath of our tiff lies like a heavy weight on my chest.

I do ultimately fall asleep, but wake up to a loud crash of thunder. She's not in bed with me, and I panic.

She isn't in the bathroom, or the guest bedroom. She isn't in the kitchen or the living room. I'm seriously worried she's left me, and that too in the middle of another fucking storm.

A light breeze wafts by, and I turn to see that the door to the garden passage is cracked open slightly. I walk out, and there, in the midst of the roses, leaning out of one of the passage's glass windows, stands the girl who has driven me nuts from the moment I first saw her.

I wrap her up in my arms and bury my face in her hair. There's relief, and peace.

After a long inhale of the damp air, there's also a niggling desire to sneeze, but I can control that.

"I was happy because you let me be a part of things," she says after a while. "You let me into your life. The thrill wasn't about the stupid jewels, it was about doing what we did, together." She shrugs and continues to watch the heavy droplets hitting soft petals and leaves, hanging off thorns.

I want to bang my head somewhere for my stupidity. Instead, I kiss her gently on the cheek and pull her even closer.

"I want to always do stuff together," I whisper, and the deeper truth in my mundane words makes me feel exposed, unsure.

She smiles and finally melts into my embrace. Clothed in her acceptance, I'm ten feet tall.

I've known her a month, and we're still learning each other… building trust, sharing the dark and light of our souls, piece by piece. Who knows where we'll be in another month, or a year, or ten.

Still, the words are trying to push past my lips; words like forever, and love, and…

Lightning sizzles across the sky.

We stand and watch the falling rain, listening to its never ending clatter in companionable silence.

Together.

The End

A/N: A few months back, an old Hindi song popped into my head (type 'ek ladki bheegi bhaagi si' in the youtube search bar if you want to check it out). It made me want to write. So I pushed away my fatigue and typed. It was fun, and I made time the next day, and the next. I never had energy for more than a few hundred words, but it was the best part of my day.

Every day, as I wrote, I shared the chapter with NewTwilighFan and purpleC305, and for a while I didn't think beyond that. I had no plan, no story I was trying to tell. I had no idea where Edward would take me when I would begin to type. It was fantastic!

When I posted it here, I still wasn't sure what I was doing. Thank you all for taking a chance and reading about a rambling mechanic and a once-naked girl with the polka-dotted umbrella. Special thanks to all the people who have been along for the ride from the beginning, and have reviewed practically every chapter. It's not been possible to reply all the time, but I've waited to see what you had to say about each chapter.

This is it for these two. I'm finally going to update 'When in France', and then something new, maybe. See you then :)


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